


Do Scars Fade

by yutorin



Series: The Heisei Kumi [9]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Christmas, Depression, Engagement, Getting Together, Grave visits, Gun Violence, Kissing in the Rain, Lots of discussion of Yamashita Shoon, M/M, Murder, Originally Posted in 2015, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Stitches, blue roses, swindling, throat slitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 21:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 46,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20824328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutorin/pseuds/yutorin
Summary: Keito is left in a state of depression after the loss of his boyfriend, but with the help of his housemates he begins to regain his appreciation for life, and find happiness again.





	1. Chapter 1

Keito was sitting alone at the kitchen table, all of the other chairs having been pushed haphazardly into their places as his housemates had all gone off to their beds, leaving him the last one downstairs. He sighed, his eyes casting their empty gaze blankly over the wood of the tabletop, his thick black hair tousled from when Inoo had ruffled it earlier. Keito didn't have the energy to care enough to fix it. He sighed again, his whole body feeling worn, stretched thin by the trial of time; but he couldn't fall asleep. He didn't really want to. He didn't really _not_ want to, but he would have to stand up, would have to climb the stairs to get to his bed, and he didn't have the motivation to do that. He didn't have the motivation to do much of anything anymore it seemed; except bargain internally with the universe.

It had been just barely over six months since Shoon had died. Six long months; the longest of his life. Worse than the days leading up to his parents' divorce, worse than the days after a bad raid, when he'd been so sore and broken he could barely move, every attempt painful. At least after a fight his wounds had been a visible thing. Then he could watch the healing process; he could see himself getting better. This time everything was internal, but the pain was the worst he'd ever felt. It was sharp, like knives or bits of glass embedded into his body, into his organs, and he hadn't known that grief could be such a physically debilitating thing before now. The pain had been harsh and unrelentless for weeks; and even now sometimes it would hit him full force out of nowhere, and he'd find himself physically unable to breathe.

At first he hadn't known what to do, he hadn't known how to express anything he was feeling, and he'd mostly just cried. He was constantly dehydrated due to his crying, but he could barely be bothered to drink anything. He hid himself away most days, knowing that he was in no state to try and be around others that were also grieving, knowing that he could offer no comfort. Every feeling was heightened. Every physical pain seemed much more extreme than it ever had before, and he'd been lost in it, and eventually he became so sick of the _hurting,_ so sick of the pain, that he got angry.

He had never been angry like this before. It was bubbling inside of him, the harsh rage emerging in little fits; and he'd punched walls and yelled, but he never felt better afterward. He had still cried a great deal, his frustration with himself, with his grief, with the fact that _the man he loved was dead_ causing harsh, new tears to run down his face. He'd never hit anyone, but he'd yelled at Chinen, to his—and everyone else's—shock. Yet the anger hadn't lasted long; he wasn't the angry type, he never had been, and it was just a front for his longing. Because more than anything he just wanted Shoon back. It made him sick how much he missed the older man, the want an ache in his chest that had become a constant presence, one Keito felt wasn't going to go away. One he wasn't sure he wanted to go away.

After the anger had subsided he'd come to realize his own desperation for Shoon's presence. The only thing he wanted in the world was to have Shoon again. To see that grand tattoo of the sun painted on his lean back, to have those big doe eyes rake over his face, affection making his pink lips quirk upwards in a smile. All he wanted was to run his fingers over the bumps and tight textures of Shoon's scars, to take the shorter man's hand in his own, to hear his intelligent voice murmuring sweet words in Keito's ear playfully. He wanted it all back. He wanted to just erase the cancer from their lives, from _Shoon's_ life, and before he knew it he found himself bargaining.

He bargained with God. He bargained with fate. He bargained with the universe. He bargained with time. He bargained with anyone, or anything that could be listening. He promised that he would do anything to get Shoon back. His attempts at deals ranged from simple to immensely elaborate, yet they were never answered. It had almost become a subconscious thing for him. Everyday he would make up new ones, his heart aching in his chest, his mind clouded with his grief, and every morning he couldn't suppress the hope that the universe; or God or whoever; had heard his pleas, and had accepted them, and that Shoon would be there. Everyday he was grounded again by the old photo album now resting permanently on their coffee table, and the out of service black cell phone tucked into his sock drawer. He'd begun to dread going to sleep, because he hated even more so waking up, and finding himself alone again.

His eyes caught on a small house fly buzzing around the kitchen, the creature eventually landing only a few centimeters from his hand. _If I don't kill this fly, will you bring Shoon back to me?_ He propositioned the universe internally, watching the delicate creature for a few moments before the sound of footsteps on the stairs caught his attention, his head flicking up to look at the staircase. His movement caused the fly to take off, it's trajectory taking it right past the stairs. A hand snatched out, crushing it as soon as it was within arm’s reach, before letting it fall to the floor. Keito felt a sharpness catch in one of his lungs at the sight.

"Keito?" It was Yuto, Keito's friend and roommate walking drearily over to him. His lean, muscular body was draped in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he'd obviously already completed his bedtime ritual, his hair still just barely damp from his shower. Yuto put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "C'mon. Let's go to bed. You're going to need your strength for tomorrow." Yuto murmured, looking down at him, concern in his eyes. Keito nodded, getting sluggishly to his feet, and he followed Yuto back up the stairs, knowing that Yuto was right. Tomorrow was an important day; one that they were all anxious about.

The past few months had been littered with the Wakaba Group's poking and prodding. They had been taking advantage of the Heisei Kumi's state of grief, and had for the most part gone without reprimand. Hikaru had decided that he was fed up, and had announced at the beginning of February that the end of the month would bring with it a raid on the Wakaba's base. They'd decided on the evening of the twenty-seventh, and now with dawn would come the day of the battle at last.

It was an event that Keito had been for the most part ignoring; it seemed far off and unimportant. Participating in a big event like a battle felt almost like moving on, and therefore Keito had felt like it wasn't ever going to happen. It seemed like the raid would always just stay three weeks away, perpetually on the agenda but impossible to reach. His world had stopped moving forward on that horrible day in August, and it had yet to start again.

Yet when he woke the following morning it was February twenty-seventh, and throughout the day there were the usual preparations. Yamada sat up in the living room with Daiki and Inoo, chatting quietly while sharpening his sword. While they talked Inoo fiddled with his butterfly knife, the older man's dainty fingers twisting the deadly blade with careless precision. As Keito watched it he subconsciously reached into the pocket of his sweatpants, running his fingers over the engraving in the handle on his own knife, Yuto meanwhile trying to coerce him into eating something. Hikaru and Yabu were sitting at the kitchen table, the Kumi-cho and his right hand man taking inventory of all of their medical supplies, and discussing strategy.

That evening they had an early dinner, Hikaru explaining the plan he'd come up with for the raid as they ate, everyone listening attentively. It was pretty straightforward. This raid was meant to do only one thing; remind the Wakaba of the damage they could cause. There wasn’t much in the way of finesse. They were going to kick some ass and they weren’t going to be discreet about it. There wasn’t going to be any sneaking around or any attempts at an element of surprise. They were going to go in fists swinging and split up, bust as many faces as possible, and then haul ass back home. Daiki was enthusiastic about the idea; it suited his preferences perfectly.

Keito didn’t really have an opinion on the strategy—or lack thereof. He just listened quietly, and then after the meal had been completed and the dishes had been tended to he followed Yuto upstairs, the two changing into their suits in moderate silence. A wave of nauseating grief hit Keito as he pulled his suit out of the closet, his eyes stinging with tears, and he felt his knees go weak. He sank down onto Yuto’s mattress, taking big breaths, trying to calm down. He hadn’t expected the suit to affect him so much. He’d last worn it for Shoon’s funeral, but…but he’d worn it to so many other functions, he just hadn’t thought. Yuto was immediately concerned, and although he was practically naked; only in his socks and underwear, he plopped down next to Keito, a comforting hand on his back.

“Hey…hey, it’s going to be okay.” Yuto murmured, Keito nodding weakly. “We’re just going to go break some bastards’ faces. That’s all.”

“I, I know. I’m sorry.” Keito muttered, frustrated with himself.

“No! No, don’t apologize Keito. Just…”

“I’m fine. Thanks Yuto.” Keito said quietly, standing and refusing to look at Yuto, refusing to let his friend see the unshed tears that he knew shone in his eyes. He grabbed the suit with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary, and he began putting it on, listening for the sounds of Yuto getting to his feet, the action showing that the younger man had effectively accepted that the conversation was over. Yuto finished dressing before him, and he slipped out, back downstairs. When Keito came down Yuto grabbed him by the shoulder, nodding over to the Kumi-cho’s office.

“Hikaru wants to see you.” He said, looking slightly embarrassed, and Keito knew that Yuto must have told their leader something. He just nodded, walking over to the half open door and knocking quietly on the doorframe.

“Come on in, Keito.” Hikaru’s voice called from the adjoining room, and Keito slipped inside, shutting the door behind himself, as Hikaru emerged from his bedroom, the older man in his slacks, his white button up shirt only halfway done, his beautiful fingers dancing on the buttons, still working them into their holes as he walked. The office had grown to be even neater under Hikaru than it ever had been when Chinen had worked in it, and Keito was surprised to see documents and pages of notes Hikaru had written strewn across the surface of the desk. The desk's messy state barely got a moment's thought, Keito's main focus on his leader as Hikaru came to stop in front of him.

"Yuto said you're having a bit of a rough time with the whole raid thing tonight." Though Hikaru's tone was professional, his eyes were wide with concern as he started tying his tie. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We're going to need you tonight." Keito felt embarrassed for having worried Hikaru. Surely he had more important things to mull over than Keito's mental state. Keito felt exhausted, everything took an extra effort, and he was still shaking off the sharp pains of grief that had overtaken him upstairs. But he set his shoulders, assuring Hikaru

"I'm fine."

"Keito, we both know that's not true." Hikaru's tone had gone soft, and Keito found that he had to look away.

"I—" There was a knock on the door, and then Yabu popped his head in, the older man blinking in surprise at finding Keito in with Hikaru.

"You two ready? Everyone's good to go." Keito took a step back from Hikaru, the Kumi-cho nodding and reaching for his suit jacket. He slung it on as they left the office, the living room now full of their housemates, everyone standing or sitting around in their suits, knives clenched in ready hands. Chinen was giving Ryutaro a kiss, the youngest two pressed up against the staircase, but at Hikaru's arrival they pulled apart, Chinen instead just taking Ryu's hand in his. Yuto had been chatting with Yamada, but they too fell silent, and they; along with the rest of their housemates, all turned to Hikaru.

"Alright. Let's go." Hikaru announced, the ones sitting getting to their feet. Hikaru led them out into the cold night, the rest of them following him in a cluster of black suits, their group melding with the darkness that the night brought with it, the moon a tiny sliver in the sky. Keito fell in at the back of the group, Takaki silently taking a spot next to him, the older man's hands shoved into his pockets, his lips pursed. Keito could feel the tension building in his housemates as they made their way into enemy territory, and as soon as they were within sight of the building Daiki let out a bellow, the sound echoing off of the surrounding structures, and they fanned out, running as the enemies burst from their base like bees from a hive.

Keito felt his heart speed up, his pulse pounding in his ears as his housemates pulled away from him, and yet the adrenaline that fighting brought with it didn't flood his system like it usually did—and as soon as his fist connected with his first opponent's face, his knuckles slamming with a painful, jarring clarity into the other man's jaw—he knew he was fucked. It was a dull realization. He kicked out, catching the man he'd punched in the stomach and doubling him over, slamming his elbow into the man's back, sending him to the floor and kicking him a few more times, before stepping hard on his head to get over his body. He'd defeated one, but it didn't take long to be overwhelmed.

He threw himself into a crowd of Wakaba members, wrapping his left arm around one and getting him into a headlock, punching him a few times before shoving him into a few of his groupmates, making them stumble backwards, and giving him the chance to square his shoulders. He ran at the group, slamming into them and kicking out blindly, feeling his foot connect with knobby bones and thick muscle. He lost sight of the building, the only thing he could see the dark forms of his opponents, and as the battle dragged on, and he found himself alone, completely surrounded with no fight in his spirit, he had the sudden realization that perhaps he didn't _want_ to get out of this.

He'd made his way around the building until he was all the way at the back, none of his companions in sight. By that point he'd retrieved his knife from his pocket, the twin handle pieces heavy in his hand as he kicked and slashed. The left side of his ribs was sending sharp pains shooting through his chest with every inhale, and he had a small cut running down his cheek. He was slashing out in front of himself, leaning and following through with a high kick when he felt a burning, harsh pain whip across the back of his thigh as a blade cut deep into his flesh. A yelp burst from his lips, and he tried to turn and face the person that had cut him, but as he spun the blade came down on his shoulder, cutting easily into the flesh and grating into the bone. He screamed, his chest inflaming as he did so, his hurt leg collapsing under him, and he looked up to see the vaguely familiar form of Sato Takeru standing over him.

It was then that, in the midst of his pain, he had a moment of clarity. Of course the universe, or God, or fate, or whatever, hadn't given Shoon back. None of the bargains he'd made thus far had been equivalent to the worth of Shoon. To a human life. He felt his knife slip from his fingers, and a foot connected with the back of his skull, sending him face first into the freezing dirt. He was kicked a few more times, the force rolling him onto his back, and as he felt Takeru's blade whip across his throat, he offered up one last plea. _Take me instead. Take me, just please give Shoon back._


	2. Chapter 2

Keito woke gradually. His mind became aware of the fact that he was awake before his body did, his brain slowly acknowledging his body parts. His eyelids came first, and then his nose, followed quickly by his lungs and then his throat, which—as soon as he realized that he had—ached sorely, like a freshly healed wound, or an overworked muscle. Soon after that it just became _breathing_. The inhale, exhale, and the expand, contract of his lungs almost overwhelming, his chest rising and—oh. His chest. He suddenly became aware of his whole torso, and then from there his whole body hit his conscious all at once, a rush of sensory data that overwhelmed him. It was like every joint, every curve of muscle was vying for his attention.

There was a light he realized. The brightness filtering in through closed eyelids, and that little bit was too much, harsh and blinding, and he furrowed his brows, scrunching his eyes against the light, and when he did he heard a sharp inhale come from the space by his right hip, and he slowly cracked his eyes open, hoping that if the source of the light was discovered then it could be extinguished, and he could go back to the much more peaceful darkness. He blinked, disoriented. His eyes weren't focusing; everything was too bright and unrecognizable. There was a voice, a voice he recognized, although he couldn't figure out why, until the person that he knew had been sitting with him leaned in, and he blinked a few more times, regaining focus, and he found himself looking into a familiar set of eyes.

"Hey." Daiki murmured, and Keito tried to turn his head to look at Daiki, but the older man jumped up, looking frantic, and Keito froze in surprise at the unexpected reaction. Daiki cursed, leaning in and gently running trembling fingers along Keito's throat, and Keito just remained still as Daiki began to visibly calm. "We thought you were dead." Daiki said quietly, removing his hand from Keito's neck and flopping into his chair, and Keito belatedly realized that Daiki looked drained, his whole body slouched over, and the tough older man had this grieving in his eyes, one that Keito had only seen when they'd visited graves, or when Yamada was mad at him. It made him uncomfortable, so he instead scrunched his eyes up against the light and tried to take in his surroundings. After a few moments it hit him that he was in Yabu's room. He hadn't set foot in this room in months. Not since...August. He let his gaze drop down to the bed, his arms lying on either side of his body, and that was when he noticed the IV hooked up to the inside of his left forearm. As he did this, Daiki got to his feet, saying gruffly

"I've got to tell the others you're awake. Don't move, or I really will kill you." Keito nodded, and that tiny movement seemed to take a great deal of effort, the skin on his neck pulling strangely. Just what had happened? He followed the line of the IV tube from his arm up to the little rack it was hooked to, the pouch it was attached to half full of some clear liquid. He tried to remember why he was here, in Yabu's bed, with a needle in his arm. He tried to think back as far as Shoon's funeral, and then slowly began working his way forward in time. He was still in the process when Yuto burst into the room, Hikaru, Takaki, Inoo, Ryutaro, and Yamada following closely behind. It was a flurry of movement, all of his housemates looking immensely tense as they looked at him. All but Yuto, who threw himself at Keito, his torso draping across Keito's, his long arms wrapping around Keito's shoulders in a tight—if awkward—embrace. It didn't really _hurt,_ the weight. It was just a lot, and Keito lifted his arms, weakly wrapping them around his friend. After a moment he could feel the way Yuto trembled, and he asked in a voice no louder than a whisper

"Yuto, are you crying?" In response Yuto let out a choked grunt, his breath hot on Keito's neck, and Keito smiled a little, squeezing the other man a bit tighter.

"Keito, how are you feeling?" Ryutaro asked, as the other five men came and stood around his bedside.

"Um..." He tried to speak up, and Yuto pulled away, standing with the rest of their housemates. "I'm just..." He floundered, trying to think of good words to describe how he was feeling. "...confused. And I feel weak." He tried to pull himself to a sitting position, and he could feel his arms trembling from the little bit of exertion that took. Yamada and Yuto lunged forward, helping to situate him, and Keito realized that neither of them had any injuries at all, and his confusion only heightened. "What happened?"

"You nearly died. You were a...I don't even know...like a nine point eight or something." Yamada told him, the others nodding in agreement. "We raided the Wakaba back at the end of February, and you...well, Yabu-kun found you, but you got hurt real bad. Bad enough that we rushed you to the hospital. It wouldn't have been too big of an emergency but..." He made a motion with his fingers, as if slicing his throat, his voice trailing off. Keito reached up for his throat, searching, and after a moment his fingers found a raised strip of flesh right under his chin, where the muscles were the most tender, and he blinked in shock. His throat had been slit?

"They stitched your neck up, as well as your shoulder, and your thigh. Your shoulder was pretty bad, there was something with the bone, I don't know exactly. We took the stitches out over a week ago though. We were able to take you home after they'd finished patching you up, but since you weren't waking up the doctor gave us this, and we've kept you hooked up since. The Oyabun even stopped by."

"We were afraid...you weren't going to wake up." Takaki murmured.

"How long was I...?"

"Over three weeks. Keito, it's March twenty-third." Yuto told him, and Keito blinked in surprise, trying to let that sink in. He'd been in a coma for nearly a month. His father had taken time out to come and see him. He must have been seriously hurt then. His housemates continued filling him in on what he'd missed when he'd been unconscious, and as they talked the atmosphere grew lighter. Keito listened, amazed by how much had happened in just one month. Despite that he was on the verge of death, their lives had continued, he realized. And if he had died, their lives would have kept on going. The world wouldn't have stopped for him, just as it hadn't stopped for Shoon. After a bit though, Hikaru found a break in the conversation and asked the others to leave, the rest of them all standing at once and filing out, their leader shutting the door behind them, leaving him alone with Keito. Keito blinked up at him in surprise, realizing that Hikaru hadn't actually spoken to him yet.

"No one else got hurt you know." Hikaru said quietly, coming closer to the bed, and Keito could see just how upset the older man was. "Not seriously. Inoo twisted his ankle, and Ryu popped his knee out of place, but...you were the only one that even needed stitches." He sighed, the sound long and slightly anguished. "It wasn't that dangerous of a raid Keito. And you didn't get hurt because you're the newest member either; I know you could have fared better in that fight." He paused, cradling his head in his hands, his voice rough. "You were being careless, and selfish." Hikaru declared. "I know you're upset; we all are. But...but you can't just _give up_ on life like that. You've seen what losing Shoon has done to us. And now what were you going to do, just throw your life away? Cause all of us even more pain?" He was trembling, and when he pulled his hands away from his face Keito was shocked to see his face wrenched up, brows furrowed.

"Please Keito, I know Shoon's death has been especially hard on you, trust me _I know._ He may not have been my boyfriend, but he's the man that took me off the street, got me off drugs, and raised me, as well as most of us. His death has been hard on me, and the rest of us, and I know you've been trying not to burden us with your grieving, but Keito _it's okay._ Lean on us all you want; all you _need."_ He took a deep shuddering breath, and Keito felt tears run down his cheeks. "But don't you dare give up." He took Keito's hand in his own, squeezing it tightly. "You still have a family, and we all fucking love you, you little piece of shit. You can't change the past, but you still have a future...so don't you give up on us. Don't you dare put us through what Shoon and Taiyo have put us through." His grip on Keito's hand was painfully tight, a tear finally rolling down his cheek, and he tacked on weakly "I don't think I could take it if you died too."

Hikaru looked more fragile than Keito had ever seen him in that moment, his eyes wide and scared and honest like those of a small child, his nose pink and cheeks wet from the crying, and although he had a strong grip, his shoulders were shaking. Keito just nodded, and Hikaru inhaled a ragged breath, taking Keito's hand and raising it up to his lips, placing little kisses across his knuckles and down his thumb, his breathing still uneven, his tears still wet on his cheeks, and after that they sat in silence for a long time, Hikaru slowly regaining his composure, while Keito felt completely drained, his eyes eventually fluttering shut.

He woke to someone shaking his shoulder. It was Yabu, the older man smiling down at him, a bowl in one hand.

"I've got you some..." He peered into his bowl. "...stuff." Yabu sank down into the chair situated next to the bed, saying "Yuto made it. He said that his parents made something like this for him and his brother whenever they were sick. It used to be rice." Keito blinked in confusion. Used to be? Yabu dipped a spoon into it, raising it so that Keito could see the contents. It was a steamy white mush, and Keito suddenly felt much better. It was probably just boiled down so that it would be easier to swallow. Or something. He nodded, allowing Yabu to feed him, and he had the presence of mind to thank the older man for giving up his bed—again. Yabu shrugged it off, and they fell into silence.

It was during this silence that Keito had a sickening revelation—he was still alive, which meant that his last bargain hadn't worked. That was the most he could offer up, and it still hadn't been accepted. He felt himself beginning to cry, thick, hot tears welling in his eyes, as a resigned despair settled in his stomach like a rock.

"Keito? Keito! What is it? What's wrong?!" Yabu was obviously taken aback by the sudden crying, concern and surprise in his voice, and Keito choked back his tears and snot, the action making his still sore throat burn, and he said in a croaky, watery voice

"Shoon...he's not coming back, is he?"

"Oh Keito..." Yabu set the bowl of mush on his bedside table, and he leaned in, putting one hand on Keito's shoulder gingerly. "No. He's not coming back." Keito felt a fresh wave of tears wash over him, and Yabu looked very uncomfortable as he added "You knew that." Keito nodded, raising a trembling hand to wipe at his cheeks.

"Yeah...I guess...I guess I just—" His voice was getting high pitched as he tried to fight the sobs rising in his throat. "—_hoped."_ Yabu looked like he too was about to cry, and Keito reached out, taking Yabu's hand and squeezing it, more for his own comfort than anything else, as the sobs wracked his body, his chest sharp with the pain of the loss, his skin burning, as he drowned in his own tears and the salty taste of despair. He wasn't sure how long he cried, and he didn't know how he had fallen asleep, but when he woke he was alone, the chair empty and the bowl gone.

Keito got a good look at his new scars about a week into his consciousness, Yuto taking him to the bathroom and helping him to shower, Keito's body so weak that the whole process was exhausting. He had a thin red line running across his throat, up close to his chin, the skin raised, slightly uneven and taught looking. The back of his left thigh held a bigger scar, the discolored strip about a centimeter wide, but neither of them were as ugly looking as the one on his shoulder. His right shoulder had a jagged, red-violet, warped stripe running in a raised track from his front along the top of his shoulder and stopping midway down his shoulder blade. It was thick, and it hadn't healed nicely. Yuto pursed his lips when he saw it, Keito fingering it gingerly as he looked in the mirror.

"It will fade." Yuto murmured. "All scars fade with time. Like this one—you can barely see it anymore." He tapped pointedly at his upper lip, to the little barely noticeable indentation on the left side. He was right, the scar had become the same color as the rest of his face, and though Keito had noticed it in the past, it was just a fleeting realization that hadn't held any real weight. Keito nodded, and Yuto smiled at him. "Now, let's get you in that tub, you disgusting creature."

Despite how weak he was, Keito found that the more he moved, the better he seemed to be able to move. He would pull himself out of bed, and over time he found himself able to get further and further away from the bed before his legs gave out on him. It wasn't that he was really _hurt;_ all of the time he spent in the coma had accounted for most of the injury he'd sustained in the fight. It was just that he hadn't used his body in nearly four weeks. His muscle mass had deteriorated an amazing amount in that time frame, and on top of it his stomach had shrunk so much that eating large quantities of food simply caused him to vomit. Despite these hardships however, his physical state was on a steady incline. He was quickly taken off of the IV, his housemates all taking turns feeding him or just sitting with him.

His mental state however, wasn't as positive. He had stopped bargaining, much to Yuto's relief, but it had come at a heavy price. Keito was in a permanent state of melancholy. Yet Daiki and Yamada often brought the chess board, and Keito would always sit up and try to play with them. He appreciated just how much everyone went out of their way to help him, and he made it a point to thank them, and let them know. He did his best to behave normally, but nothing was fun. Nothing was interesting, or exciting. He had a hard time coming up with conversation topics, or even truly participating in conversations with his housemates. He felt empty inside. It was as though he'd been hollowed out, save for the still present grieving weight in his heart, and he found himself feeling withdrawn from the group; a spectator instead of a participant in their lives. This felt especially true about a month into his conscious recovery, when he woke to Ryutaro dragging Chinen by the arm into Yabu's bedroom, shutting the door forcefully as Chinen yanked himself from the bigger boy's grasp, his voice harsh with anger as he said

"What the _hell_ Ryu?!" Keito flinched at Chinen's tone, but Ryutaro didn't back down, saying just as forcefully

"That's what I want to know, Yuri! What the _fuck_ were you doing sitting on his lap like that?!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chinen blinked up at his boyfriend incredulously.

"What—you mean Takaki?" When the taller young man nodded, the little ex-leader rolled his eyes. "Ryu, that's what he and I _do,_ it's what we always have done! He's my best friend, and now that I'm not the Kumi-cho, I assumed it was okay! And it has been! It's not like this was the first time."

"Not the first time?! Yuri!"

"I don't understand what _your_ fucking problem is." Chinen said, jabbing the taller guy hard in the chest with his left pointer finger.

"My problem is him, Yuri! I can't believe you still are so close with him! We—" He gestured between the two of them. "—are together! You can't just keep hanging around someone that's obviously still in love with you!" Keito felt his heart jump in his chest as the room fell silent. The air was sharp with the tang of Chinen's shock, the small man frozen. When he finally did speak, his words were all choppy and he was obviously flustered.

"Takaki's not...he never was. I mean, we used to fuck all the time, but that was like...eight years ago!" Shocked from the sudden realization of just _how young_ Chinen had been when this supposed fucking had been happening, Keito was still pondering it as Chinen sputtered out "Besides, he isn't, and never has been _in love_ with me. We're just friends."

"No." Ryutaro said firmly, placing a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, his tone a forced calmness, his words slow. "No Yuri. He's been in love with you for _ever,_ and I just can't stand seeing you all over him when he still wants you. _Especially_ knowing that you two used to fuck." He took Chinen's hands in his own, biting at his bottom lip as his voice got lower. "It just...it makes me crazy. I can't stand it; it's like living one of my worst nightmares." Keito blushed, feeling even more so like an intruder on a very private conversation.

"Okay, say he is in love with me then. So what? He's still my best friend. I'm not going to cut him out of my life! Even if I wanted to—which I don't—we live with him, so I'd have to see him!" Chinen pulled back a bit from his boyfriend, obviously not willing to even imply that Ryutaro's feelings were acceptable. "You can't expect that of me." He pursed his lips, glaring up at Ryu, and Keito knew that if it had been him on the other end of that look, he would have backed off immediately. Even being in the presence of his ex-leader while the younger man was so obviously frustrated made him just want to curl up and disappear. Ryutaro sighed, tugging gently on one of Chinen's hands.

"C'mere Yuri." He pulled the shorter man to his chest, Chinen allowing himself to be engulfed in Ryutaro's arms, and he rested his chin on top of Chinen's head, rocking back and forth just slightly, and after a moment he spoke, his voice quiet and affectionate. "I know that you're still friends with Takaki-kun, and I understand that regardless of my feelings toward him, he's important to you. I'm not going to ask you to cut him out of your life Yuri, but please, could you refrain from being so....touchy with him? I want to be the only one that can hold you like this." There was a moment of silence, and then Chinen conceded

"Okay Ryu. But only because I love you." Ryutaro was smiling, and when he spoke his tone was warm.

"I love you too." Keito knew he was blushing, and he felt that the atmosphere was getting dangerously affectionate. Should he alert them to his presence? Should he just lay there quietly and hope they went away? Would they be angry with him for eavesdropping, or would it just embarrass them? As his mind raced with all of the possibilities, Chinen pushed himself up on his toes to kiss Ryu, the taller man wrapping his arms around Chinen's hips and picking him up, pulling him to his chest. Keito squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that they would just leave of their own accord. After a moment or two, his hopes were answered, Ryutaro muttering hoarsely

"Let's take this somewhere else, Yuri. We don't want to wake Keito." Chinen must have nodded or something, because there was the sound of the door opening, and his two housemates left, Keito cracking his eyes open to find himself alone once more. He never did tell Chinen or Ryutaro about the conversation he'd overheard, and they appeared to be completely oblivious as to his involvement. Instead Keito began focusing on the task of going down to the bottom level of their home. It was a straightforward goal, hiding an embarrassing truth. He was lonely. He did enjoy all of the time Yuto and some of the others were spending with him, but the person he missed the most—excluding of course, his dead boyfriend—was the one he saw the least of.

Hikaru hadn't visited him since he'd regained consciousness, and Keito missed him terribly. He knew that the older man was extremely busy as of late, Yuto telling him that their leader rarely left his office, sometimes not even participating in dinner time, and Keito understood that he wouldn't necessarily see any more of Hikaru if he managed to get down the stairs, but he liked to think that he would. He wanted to talk to Hikaru, to sit with the man and listen to him, run his eyes over the tattoos on his arm and lean comfortably into his warm side. He wanted Hikaru to tell him he could do this, he could get through his grieving, even on its worst day; because he knew that Hikaru had always been the one that believed the most in him.

And so it was with this longing for contact that Keito began trying to tackle the staircase. The first time he attempted to go down it he slipped, his whole body pitching forward, and he tumbled painfully down to the first floor, hitting solid ground with a loud smack. The sound resonated throughout the area, and before he could even right himself his housemates were there, cursing and yanking him to his feet, concern in their eyes. He was immediately helped back up to bed, Yabu and Takaki telling him harshly to quit being stupid. He'd already managed to hurt himself enough without throwing his body down a flight of stairs. Keito was inclined to agree with them, his muscles aching, bruises already forming from the incident.

His second try found him halfway down, curled up on one of the steps, trying to hold back tears, feeling helpless and grieving. He gave up that day too, just retreating slowly back to Yabu's room. It was the third try that truly brought success. Yuto had come to sit with him, the two debating lightheartedly about who would win in a proper fight—Inoo or Ryu, when Daiki peered around the door, saying quickly

"Dinner." Yuto nodded in acknowledgement, and once Daiki was gone he immediately dropped their previous topic of conversation, his eyes wide with an epiphany.

"Keito! You should come downstairs and eat dinner with us!" Keito took to the idea at once. He wanted to sit with his housemates. It would feel like being part of the group again. Plus it would give him something to think about—something to keep his mind off Shoon. There was only one problem.

"I haven't managed to get all the way down by myself yet." Yuto scoffed.

"You can do it though. I'll help you." He stood, walking over to the door. "C'mon!" Keito found himself unable to speak against Yuto's enthusiasm, and he pulled himself out of bed, attempting to flash a smile at his friend as he got to his feet and—with Yuto's patience—led him out the door and down the hall to the staircase. Going down was slow moving, Keito's knees one of the weakest points in his still recovering body. He kept one hand against the wall on his left, and Yuto stayed close on his right, ready to catch Keito if he tripped. He only had to do it twice. They'd nearly made it to the bottom of the stairs when they were suddenly confronted by Inoo, who was carrying a tray upon which was what Keito assumed was intended to be his dinner. Inoo seemed even more startled to see them than they were to see him.

"I was just sent to slug you for taking so long to get your ass down for dinner." Inoo told Yuto as he and Keito breached the bottom of the stairs. Yuto raised his eyebrows, gesturing pointedly to Keito, and Inoo grinned. "Yeah, yeah, good excuse." They all turned, taking the last few steps into the kitchen, and there were a couple of double takes as the others realized that Keito had joined them, and Ryutaro smirked, saying

"You finally get off your lazy ass and decide to bless us with your presence, _Prince?"_ His words' harsh implications were completely nullified by his joking tone and the happiness in his eyes, and Keito appreciated it. He took his seat next to the younger man, slouching into it, his legs glad of the excuse to relax. Inoo placed his meal in front of him, Keito murmuring his thanks before finally glancing over at Hikaru. The older man was smiling warmly at him, and he asked

"How have you been?" Yuto was grinning, watching the exchange from across the table, but Keito barely noticed his housemate.

"I'm getting better. I've just got to build my muscle mass now. All I'm going to have in the way of anything permanent is some scarring." Hikaru nodded, his eyes visibly fixating on the scar running along Keito's throat for a moment. Keito felt self conscious under Hikaru's gaze, and he turned his eyes down to his meal, shoveling rice into his mouth. Luckily for him, Yamada launched enthusiastically into a description of the sparring he'd done after breakfast with Yuto, and Hikaru averted his gaze, focusing on their katana wielding housemate. And so the meal continued, Keito listening quietly to his companions as he ate. It was amazing just how full of life they all were, and he was happy to see them all so happy.

From then on he ate dinner with the rest of his housemates, and as the days passed he spent more and more time downstairs. He would curl up on the couch and watch as his housemates went about their day. Despite how dull that would seem, it was a great improvement over spending his time alone in Yabu's bedroom. He was less easily forgotten when he was in a more communal area, and he found himself a participant of many card, mahjong, and chess games. As Yuto had warned him, he didn't see much—if any—of Hikaru, their leader only emerging from his office to retrieve food, and even then he usually had a phone up to his ear, or a stack of papers up to his face, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Hikaru seemed to have some big project he was working on, and Keito just hoped it would go well.

One morning he was puttering around the kitchen, looking vaguely for something to eat, when Yabu walked in wearing a suit, the older man pointing at him and saying

"Get dressed. You're coming with me." His tone left no room for argument, and Keito abandoned his search for food, nodding and climbing the stairs. He rested for a few moments at the top before entering the bedroom he usually shared with Yuto, digging around and finding his nicest pair of jeans, slipping them on and wrapping his torso in a plain white button down shirt that he only buttoned up halfway. Afraid he was keeping Yabu waiting, he slipped on shoes as hastily as possible, and he practically threw himself back downstairs. But Yabu just steered him into a chair, placing a plate heaped with food in front of him. "Eat first." Keito nodded, thanking the older man and digging in, as Yabu explained

"We're going to visit the underling housing. I regularly check in on them for the Kumi-cho, and I figured it would be some good exercise for you. Besides, you haven't left the house in months." He talked as Keito ate, explaining that Keito wasn't actually _needed_ per say for this visit, but also explaining that it didn't really matter. Keito's job was to keep Yabu company. Yabu's job was to make sure that the underlings were doing their jobs.

"What are they supposed to be doing?" Keito asked after he'd finished his breakfast, as Yabu whisked him out the front door, and into the morning sunlight. He was shocked by just how bright it was, blinded for a moment, and he was so caught up in the sunlight that he nearly missed Yabu saying

"You know how we've bought most of the previously abandoned buildings to the west of here? Well, the underlings are living in them, and so Hikaru's allotting a budget to go towards making those buildings properly usable. They're fixing them up, so that they have better, more pleasant living quarters. Plus, any of the restored buildings we don't need for housing we can rent out to katagi until the time comes that we do need them. It's a no-lose situation; the underlings gain muscle mass, skills, and better living, and we get property that has a higher value, and can be rented out, providing the Kumi with income." Keito nodded, impressed by this plan. He'd had no idea that Hikaru had been coordinating such a big project.

"Is this what's been keeping the Kumi-cho so busy recently?" Keito asked, hurrying to keep up as they rounded a corner, and found the alley in front of them bustling with teenage boys.

"No. Don't ask about that." Yabu muttered sharply as the kids caught sight of them. In moments everyone in the street had fallen into two rows on either side of the pavement, their heads bowed low in respect. Yabu nodded appreciatively, and called out "Relax!" Slowly, everyone pulled themselves upright, and Keito sighed as he watched all of their young, healthy bodies moving with so much energy, he himself feeling extremely drained from the short walk. Yabu noticed, calling over a couple of boys and gesturing pointedly to Keito. There were immediately arms around his waist and over his shoulders, and before he could get a word in they had him inside, sitting on a spindly fold-out chair that was paired up with a rather elaborate mahogany dining table. All of the furniture, he realized, was mismatched, probably scavenged from dumpsters or stolen. He fumbled out a thanks, one of the boys that had been helping him asking hurriedly if he'd like anything to drink.

"Oh, no thank you." He tried to keep himself from slumping over the tabletop, aware that he was a guest in these boys' home. Suddenly, there was a yell, the voice familiar.

"Prince!" He blinked in surprise, turning his head to see Jesse Lewis striding over, a smile on the tall teens face.

"You really don't have to call me that." Keito told him once they were close enough to talk, and Jesse shook his head, throwing himself into an empty chair at the table. "I'm sorry, would you prefer Young Master? I'm younger than you, so I didn't think it was appropriate."

"Really, just Keito is—"

"Prince! Yabu-san said you were here!" Tanaka Juri burst through the door, cutting Keito off mid sentence. The skinny young man whacked Jesse on the back of the head, chastising "Why didn't you tell me he was here!"

"He's not here to see you, you jackass." Jesse retorted teasingly, turning back to Keito. "How are you, Prince? You look thin." Keito was surprised to see genuine concern in the underling's eyes, and he realized that the last time he'd seen Jesse was when they'd rescued Ryutaro from the Wakaba, the previous July. Between his lack of will to eat, and his muscle loss due to his coma, he definitely was much smaller now than he had been the last time they'd crossed paths.


	4. Chapter 4

"Aniki said you were in a coma; is that true?" Juri asked enthusiastically, to Keito's surprise.

"Who?"

"Takaki-san." Jesse explained, Juri nodding.

"So, is it true?" The lanky boy pushed.

"Oi! Don't be a nuisance, Juri." Jesse muttered. Juri rolled his eyes, retorting.

"Don't call me a nuisance, you Godzilla. I know the Prince better than you do anyway. Why don't _you_ quit being a nuisance and go make out with your boyfriend or something." Their friendly bickering was amusing, but Keito didn't want them to feel like they were bothering him, especially when it was he that came into their home unannounced.

"I was in a coma." He confirmed, his words drawing their attention. "I didn't fare well in my last fight." He conceded, arching his neck and showing them the scar that ran along his throat. Juri gasped, reaching out and tentatively running his fingers along the raised red line.

"Yours looks cooler than mine." The lanky teen said, pulling up his jeans to show Keito the long scar that ran up one leg.

"Juri! Where are you, you bastard?!" Taiga's voice called from outside, and both of Keito's companions hopped to their feet, bowing quickly to Keito and excusing themselves, scurrying outside to join their yelling companion. At a slower pace Keito followed them, back out of the building and into the street, the sun nearly blinding him again, and he made his way over to where Yabu was standing with Shintaro and Hokuto, and as he passed through the throngs of boys he heard them whispering to each other about him. About how he was the Oyabun's son. About how he apparently hadn't died. About how skinny he was. Yet he never caught them saying these things. Whenever he looked at any of the boys, they weren't talking, they were just staring a bit, their eyes wide with awe. It would have been very uncomfortable, he thought, if he could muster up the energy to care about what these kids thought of him.

Still, he followed Yabu around for the next forty minutes, curiously observing as the underlings showed the older man what progress they'd made since his last visit, and explaining to him what their plans were for the continuation of the process. They'd nearly finished one apartment building to Keito's amazement. They were in the process of laying tile and painting, but the place was definitely a gem in comparison to its neighbors. After everything had been seen by Yabu, they said their farewells, all of the boys bowing once more before they left. Keito—to his shock—got personal farewells from all of the boys that had helped in rescuing Ryutaro, the six of them all telling him individually how glad they were to see him on his feet. He just nodded, flabbergasted, but they didn't seem to mind his lack of speech, and with that Yabu began steering him back home.

Keito didn't quite make it back on his own. He fell further and further behind Yabu until the older man lost his patience and demanded Keito to allow him to piggyback him the rest of the way home. Embarrassed, Keito conceded, and Yabu heaved him up, wrapping his lanky arms around Keito's thighs to hold him in place as he walked. Keito crashed on the couch as soon as he got through the front door, exhausted by all of the activity. He slept until dinner, and although the visit to the underlings was discussed, it wasn't a big thing, and it was quickly passed by. Keito had thought that would be the last of it, until about a week later when during another dinner Takaki announced

"So I went by the underling housing today, and I heard something pretty interesting." He paused, everyone giving him their attention. "Apparently Keito's earned himself a nickname."

"Really?" Inoo exclaimed in excitement, everyone turning to Keito curiously. Keito blinked in surprise. He'd earned a nickname? How?

"Yeah. When I went down there the brats were calling him the _'Stone Prince'._ I don't know who started it, but literally all of them were referring to him with that name." Takaki turned to Keito, speaking to him directly. "Apparently when you visited last week you left an impression on the kids. They said you had no expressions or something." Keito just blinked, processing that information. Those boys didn't know him, they didn't know what he'd been going through in the past months, and yet the nickname they'd given him spoke of an awareness that something was wrong. Or at least that he wasn't behaving normally.

Keito visited them more in the following weeks, Yabu dragging him out whenever he would go, and he heard his nickname more the more time he spent with the kids, some of them even calling him Stone Prince to his face, the way they all called Daiki The Dragon. It was an interesting development, and Yuto told him to just embrace the name; he said it was kinda cool. Keito didn't know about cool, but he didn't protest, and it stuck. The visits to the underlings were helping greatly in his muscle growth, and he found himself able to complete the journey with more and more ease as they whittled through May and entered into the month of June. He was also eating better, Yuto insisting on Keito eating whenever he would eat. Keito tried to pretend he didn't notice the way that regular meals were helping with his weight gain, but he knew it was working.

He could see his shrunken body filling back out. His arms—having withered down to less than half of their size, the bone underneath more noticeable than the muscle covering it—were regaining their shape. His stomach had lost all definition, his chest had become defined by his ribcage, and he knew that even his face had slimmed down, everything just _less_. He'd lost over thirteen kilograms since Shoon had died, and it hadn't been mass he could afford to lose. But now, now that Yuto was making him eat, and Yabu was making him exercise, he could see the weight coming back. He could watch his muscles forming, and he knew logically that it was a good thing, and he was grateful that they put the effort in for him, when his own motivation was so low.

He was musing on this one evening, a few hours after dinner when his thoughts were interrupted by Hikaru emerging from his office, the older man taking a seat silently next to Keito on the couch. Hikaru sighed, and made a move as if to sling an arm around Keito's shoulders, before withdrawing it awkwardly, and glancing at Keito's face. Keito hadn't been alone with Hikaru since the day he'd woken from his coma, their leader too busy to spend time with him. Keito had wanted to see Hikaru. He'd missed him greatly; but he'd known that the older man had more important things drawing his attention, and he'd been enough of a nuisance without forcing himself upon the busy leader.

"Hey." Hikaru said quietly, and Keito tried to muster up a smile, the end result something he was sure was less than satisfactory. It wasn't that he wasn't glad to be sitting with Hikaru, it was just that ever since Shoon died it felt as if he'd forgotten how to smile, the process feeling unnatural. "How have you been?" Keito blinked, trying to come up with a satisfactory answer to that question.

"Um...I've gained nearly eight kilos since March..." He said quietly, and Hikaru nodded. "What about you?" Keito asked, noticing the dark circles under Hikaru's eyes, and the way his hands shook with a slight tremor. The older man was obviously exhausted.

"Tired." Hikaru confirmed, and Keito leaned into his side, letting his scarred shoulder press up against Hikaru's own. Somehow, just touching Hikaru made him relax, and he felt his muscles losing their tension. "I'm working on something that will be a big deal for us if it all pans out, and while I do think it's very important, I wish it wasn't taking up so much of my time." He sighed, turning his head so that the tip of his nose rested on Keito's shoulder, before slinging his arm around Keito like he'd first intended, Keito happy to snuggle up to Hikaru's warm side. They sat together, conversing quietly about everyday occurrences; Hikaru telling Keito about things that had happened when he'd been either bedridden or unconscious, and Keito in turn illustrating some of the events Hikaru was missing while he was holed up in his office.

There was a pause in the conversation, Hikaru yawning widely, his eyes fluttering shut, and they fell into a comfortable silence, Keito beginning to wonder if the older man had fallen asleep when Hikaru murmured

"How are you really, Keito?" Keito tried to glance over at Hikaru, surprised by the question, but their bodies were too close for him to get a good look at his face.

"I'm...better. My body is getting better. Yuto is making me eat, and Yabu-san is helping me exercise. I can feel myself getting stronger, and that's really good. But, I just don't...I don't care as much as I know I should. It's not that I don't appreciate what everyone is doing for me. But I still am having a hard time mustering up the will to do much of anything. Or to want anything." He paused, Hikaru squeezing him tightly with the arm he had wrapped around his shoulders. "It's like I don't even remember how to live normally." He murmured, his voice getting quieter as his confession grew more serious. "I know logically that I'm getting better, but it just seems impossible that I'll ever be like I was before. I don't even know how to _be_ happy. It's as if even if I wanted to be happy, I wouldn't know how, and that makes me feel really...hopeless." He could feel the tears welling his his eyes, his face hot, and he paused, taking a shaky inhale, trying to pull himself together.

Hikaru wrapped his other arm around Keito, pulling him to his chest so that Keito was fully enveloped in his arms, and Keito looked down at them, one pale and unblemished, the other laced with striping black tattoos, the image growing blurry as the tears reached a tipping point, before they rolled down his cheeks. As he cried, a thought occurred to him, and he wiped at his eyes, his voice rough as he asked

"When something inside of you cracks, and you're never the same...is that what people call maturing?" He took a deep breath, and Hikaru pulled him closer, saying quietly

"It’s called a lot of things, I think. But if you think it's maturing, then that means you can get through it, Keito. You can get to the other side of this and come out. It means that this is not forever. So have hope. It will be okay. You'll see. One day, you'll be happy again." He leaned his head on Keito's shoulder. "One day sooner than you think."

Keito woke to Takaki shaking his shoulder, the older man pulling him off of the couch and to his feet, as Yabu began the same procedure with Hikaru. Keito just blinked blearily as Takaki led him up the stairs, not even questioning it when he took Keito to his room, Keito obediently climbing the ladder to his old bunk, crashing face first into the pillow. He wondered vaguely why it smelled like Yabu, as Takaki bid him good night, but he was already falling back asleep. When he woke the next morning it was almost as if the conversation he'd had with Hikaru hadn't happened, Hikaru still spending nearly all of his waking time in his office. But whenever they were near one another, Keito could catch Hikaru's eye, and he understood that Hikaru believed in him. It was a good feeling.

It was during one of Keito's now practically regular visits to the underlings when―just as he and Yabu were about to return home―one of the older boys called out to them, his face serious. Keito blinked in surprise, but at the boy's request he and Yabu followed him into one of the buildings, the boy talking quickly as he walked.

"Um, I'm Kishi Yuta. So sorry about this Yabu-san, Stone Prince, but there's been an incident, and I want to make sure you're aware." He paused, holding open a door for them. Keito bowed his head in thanks, and the action seemed to surprise Kishi, the boy looking flustered for a moment before continuing with what he had been saying. "About two weeks ago, one of the younger boys reported seeing a tall guy behaving suspiciously at that park near the high school. So I've been keeping an eye on the place, and he's shown up a few more times. At first it didn't seem like anything. He would just stand there, and watch the kids play. Sometimes he'd smoke, but it was nothing too weird. Nothing _wrong." _He sighed, digging around under a bed frame, and pulled out a shoe box.

"But then the day before yesterday I happened to be out late, and he was still there. I thought it was weird, so I watched him, and he buried something under the swing set." Kishi pulled out a small plastic bag from his box, grimacing as he held it out for them to see. Yabu took it, his eyebrows scrunching together in concern as he looked at the bag's contents.

"Shit." Keito heard the older man mutter, and Kishi nodded in understanding. Keito looked over at it. It looked like little white crystals, almost like something a rock enthusiast would keep, but judging on their reactions, it wasn't quite as harmless as some quartz.

"Yeah. That's some nasty stuff. I think the park is a drop zone for this guy. I got his picture with Shintaro's phone camera. We printed it off at the high school library this morning..." He dug around in the box some more, pulling a slightly crumpled photograph out and handing that too over. It was a bit blurry, but the man's features were recognizable. Not that Keito had ever seen him before. Yabu, it seemed, had, his frown becoming even more pronounced as he stared at the image. But he didn't say anything in front of the underling, just thanking the boy and promising that the matter would be taken care of. Kishi smiled in relief, nodding, and with a final goodbye Yabu whisked Keito out of the building and into the streets, as dusk began to settle on their town.

"What do we do?" Keito asked, trying to keep up with his companion's hurried strides. It had been a long time since he'd seen Yabu this frantic, and it concerned him. Yabu sighed. "I don't know. Hikaru needs to hear about this; he's Kumi-cho, he'll decide. One thing's for certain though, this guy isn't going to get away with this." Unfortunately he didn't have time for a proper meeting with their leader, as when they got home they found their housemates all flitting around the kitchen, dinner obviously about to start. Yabu pulled Hikaru away from where he'd been setting out plates, his voice low, his words fast as he pulled the plastic bag and the photograph from his suit jacket pocket. Keito didn't catch what was being said, the two drawing further and further away from the rest of the group as they talked. Both looked extremely concerned, and they barely seemed to notice the others until Daiki yelled

"Dinner!" Their conversation came to a quick end. The issue of the man in the park had obviously not been cleared up however, as halfway through the meal, Hikaru quieted them all, saying

"I have something that as your leader I want to discuss with you all." He announced. There were shared glances of concern and confusion among all of Keito's housemates, and Hikaru seemed almost apologetic as he continued. "Today it was reported that the manager of the Neon Tiger night club has been selling meth, and using a local park as a drop zone." He pulled the photograph and baggie out of his jeans pocket, throwing them out onto the table. There were a few curses spat, Takaki looking shocked by the information, and Hikaru paused to let them get a good look at the evidence before he continued.

"Obviously, this is unacceptable. We have a zero tolerance policy for drugs in our territory, and this man knows of the consequences of his actions. This is a problem that must be taken care of immediately." There were a few murmurs of agreement, Keito just watching numbly as his friends all decided that the man in the picture should die. "There is only one problem." Hikaru said, pursing his lips. "I can't do it this time." Everyone's faces grew stony at that announcement. "I have too many other things I have to divide my attention amongst now that I'm Kumi-cho, and I simply don't have the time to go out and take care of this guy." Hikaru said, resting his elbows on the table and folding his hands in front of him. "So I'm asking for a volunteer."

The silence that followed was one of the heaviest Keito had ever been in. He felt slightly sick. One of the nine of them was going to have to kill the man in the picture. But Hikaru wasn't just appointing someone. He wasn't making it an order they would have to follow. He was letting them decide.


	5. Chapter 5

"I-I should do it..." Yabu announced, leaning forward to take the picture, but Daiki slapped his hand away, saying roughly

"Back the fuck down. You couldn't kill him. Look at you." Keito looked over at their smaller housemate in surprise. He'd honestly expected Daiki to be the one to volunteer. Daiki had killed people before. Keito had seen it, they'd talked about it. Plus, the older man already had a gun. But Daiki was glaring at the photograph as if it had personally offended him, and Yamada had leaned into his boyfriend's side, announcing

"Well, Dai-chan's not doing it." Daiki was quick to add on

"Neither is Ryosuke. Or Inoo-chan." Keito stared at the picture in dread. That was half of them ruled out already. Could he do it? Could he kill that man? He was pretty sure he couldn't. He could still remember vividly the way he'd felt when he'd seen Hikaru kill a man. He could hear the gunshots, smell the scent of his own vomit, the fear and anguish and disgust that had slammed into him, making it hard to breathe still imprinted on his mind, and he suddenly was a lot more fearful of the grave decision that was left before them. But it was then that Yuto caught his eye, looking concerned. And before Keito even had the thought to stop him, he raised his hand.

"I'll do it." He announced, leaning forward and slapping his palm over the photograph, pulling it closer.

"What? No!" Yamada said, the words slipping out in shock. Hikaru sent him a look, the smaller man slamming his mouth shut, and he murmured "Sorry."

"I really appreciate this Yuto." Hikaru told the younger man, and Yuto just nodded, his face void of any emotion. That night after dinner Yuto followed Hikaru back to his office, Keito sitting on the edge of Yuto’s bed in their shared bedroom, waiting for the younger man to come up. It didn't take long, Keito's lanky friend carrying with him a small wooden box, cradled under one arm.

"Hey." Yuto said, setting the box down on the top of their dresser and opening one of the drawers, digging around for a pair of sweatpants.

"Yuto, are you really going to do it?" Yuto looked over at him as he found what he was looking for, reaching for the clasp on his jeans to change.

"Yeah." The answer was so nonchalant, no concern in his tone at all, that it took Keito by surprise.

"But, is it really going to be okay? Do you think you'll be okay?" Yuto smiled, slipping on his sweats and plopping down on his bed next to Keito.

"It's really going to be okay." He said, but his words did nothing to quell Keito's anxiety. Yuto seemed to sense that, and he crossed his arms, sighing. "I don't see what the problem is, Keito. You know he has to die." He paused, looking down for a moment. "Besides, it's not like I've never killed anyone." The shock of those words hit Keito like a bag of bricks. Yuto had...he'd known that Hikaru and Daiki had killed people before. And there'd been this unspoken understanding that Shoon had killed in his past, but Keito had assumed that it wasn't a common trait among their group. Especially considering how young they all were. And even if it was, Yuto would be one of the last ones he'd expect.

"But..."

"Keito, you knew." Yuto said quietly, his voice becoming more serious. "Remember, the first proper conversation we ever had. We talked about why we were here, and I told you about Raiya. I joined the kumi to get revenge for my brother's death, and I told you that I'd already had my revenge." He looked over at Keito, his lips pursed, the bottom one trapped between his teeth. "I killed the guy that killed my brother, Keito. Over ten years ago. I know what I'm agreeing to, and I'm telling you that I'm okay with it." Keito nodded, and realizing that he'd been a nuisance, he apologized for butting in. But to his relief, Yuto just smiled, leaning into Keito's side.

"I haven't seen you this anxious since...since before then." He paused. "It's nice to see you so worked up. You've been really...empty for a long time. You really care about me, don't you?" Keito blushed a bit, but he nodded, not looking at his friend. "Well don't worry. Everything is going to be okay. I promise, I can handle this." Yuto told him, Keito nodding again. They fell into a comfortable silence, Keito eventually dozing off there in Yuto's bed, when Yuto said

"You're still coming to the cemetery, right? Raiya's death anniversary is the day after tomorrow."

"Of course." Keito murmured.

"Good." Yuto sighed. "I think I'm going after that lowlife after we go. I was talking with the Kumi-cho, and that seems like the most opportune time." Keito didn't really know how to respond to that, so he didn't, and soon they both fell asleep, still leaning slightly against each other, splayed out on Yuto's bunk.

They didn't speak of Yuto's assignment again, everyone simply acting as if nothing important was happening. And maybe nothing was. They didn't know this man; he was a pest, like a cockroach that needed to be squashed. They just played their card games, sparred and gambled and laughed, even Yuto himself seemingly completely unaffected by his looming task. It was the only thing Keito really thought about, it was something easy to worry about, something that was an easy distraction from the fog of depression that constantly shrouded him. Though Yuto claimed to be fine with the whole thing, Keito just didn't see how he could be. How someone that could feel as deeply as he knew Yuto did, could be unaffected by murder.

Yet when Raiya's death day came to pass, Yuto was much more somber before the grave visit—his lips pursed, eyebrows scrunched together in an attempt to hold in his grief—than he was after. Keito and Yamada had gone with him to the grave, as they had every year Keito had been in the kumi, and they wrapped their arms around his shoulders, murmuring words of support in the limousine on the drive to the cemetery. But on the way back Yuto didn't lean into their sides; instead he sat up, pulling the handgun Hikaru had given him from inside his jacket and checking it over, making sure everything was in order before loading it and screwing on a silencer. No one spoke until they reached their stop, Yuto hiding the gun back under his jacket and waiting for the limo to turn a corner before clapping Yamada on the shoulder and saying

"Thanks guys." Yamada just nodded, Yuto turning to leave, but Keito lunged forward wrapping his arms around Yuto and pulling him sharply to his chest.

"I'll be waiting for you at home." Keito murmured, and Yuto squeezed him back.

"Okay, you baby." When he drew back he flashed them a small smile before turning and walking off in the direction of the docks, his long legs carrying him swiftly away. Keito watched him go for a moment, dread and anxiety mixing in a nauseating combination in his stomach, and he walked back to the house with Yamada in silence. As soon as they were inside Yamada threw himself into Daiki's arms, his tattooed boyfriend kissing him and cradling him tenderly in his arms. Keito—numb and just generally miserable—flopped down on the couch, not bothering to change out of his suit, staring blankly at the surface of the coffee table.

He was quickly joined by Inoo to his surprise, the older man slowly inching closer and closer to him on the couch, until they were pressed up against each other, shoulders touching. They sat like that in silence for a while, Keito—while confused by his housemate's unprecedented behavior—finding the presence of another body comforting, and he unconsciously leaned into Inoo's side. Inoo's lips curled upwards in a smile, and the older man shook his head, murmuring

"Kumi-cho said you liked to snuggle, but...damn, Keito." He slung a pale arm across Keito's shoulders, giving him a little side hug. "I didn't think you'd be cool with me touching you like this."

"Sorry." Keito found himself murmuring, Inoo waving his apology away.

"It's fine, you softie."

"Why are you doing this, Inoo-kun?" Keito asked, hoping Inoo would serve as a distraction for his maliciously upsetting train of thought.

"Why?" Inoo sighed. "Because you look pathetic. And Kumi-cho said you really like this kind of shit." He squeezed Keito's shoulder a bit tighter to emphasize their physical closeness as he spoke. "And...you don't have anyone to do this for you like you used to." His usually upbeat tone grew softer as he grew more serious. "At least, not right at this moment." He reached up with the arm he'd hooked over Keito's shoulders, ruffling his hair from an awkward angle, and Keito bit his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling embarrassed for having made Inoo go out of his way. But he didn't want Inoo to leave, so he just said

"Thanks." They fell into silence, Keito settling in under Inoo's arm, the feeling different than when Hikaru would sit with him like this. Inoo was skinnier than Hikaru, and Keito found that he didn't radiate a warm enveloping heat the way Hikaru's body did. He smelled different too, and it was just...not the same. But Inoo's presence did make him feel better, less anxious, as he waited for Yuto to get home. They sat together like that for a while, until Hikaru emerged from his office, the older man spotting the two of them on the couch and freezing for a moment. He gave them a weird look, and Keito felt embarrassed, as if he'd been caught in an unacceptable act. As if he'd betrayed Hikaru in some manner, and although Hikaru didn't say—or really even _do_—anything it was enough to get Keito to pull himself to his feet, murmuring his thanks one last time to Inoo and retreating to his bedroom, finally changing out of his suit. When he came back down there was a mahjong game in progress, Chinen sprawled out where Inoo had been sitting.

Yuto finally came home late in the afternoon, Keito standing to welcome him, concerned eyes sweeping over his friend, searching for any sign of distress. Yuto had a few specks of blood splattered on his shirt, the red droplets stark against the white fabric, and his face was serious, not sad or regretful, but he wasn't smiling, his thin lips drawn tight.

"Yuto?" Keito said hesitantly, catching Yuto's attention. When Yuto caught sight of him he smiled, opening his arms for a hug, and Keito crossed the space separating them, falling into Yuto's arms, relief flooding his body when Yuto murmured

"See, you dumb ass. I'm fine." Keito nodded into Yuto's shoulder, feeling exhausted from his emotional day, and he drew back, Yuto glancing over at Hikaru's office door. "I've got to give the Kumi-cho a report." He announced, Keito nodding again, letting his friend pass. He was amazed by how composed Yuto was, and in the days to follow there truly was no change in his friend, Yuto making it apparent that he was able to carry the position as the kumi's unofficial hit man, perhaps even better than even Hikaru had. No one really discussed it, but there was a sense of relief in the house that the transition had gone so well.

A week after the shooting, there was a knock on the front door at around nine o'clock. The majority of them were sitting around the living room, having just finished breakfast, the only one not present Hikaru, who had been seen early in the morning making himself a pot of coffee, and had yet to leave his office since, except to tell them not to disturb him. Period. They all shared confused glances—no one ever knocked—but the person on the other side of the door knocked again, and finally Yamada stood, slinging his katana over his shoulder by the strap just in case, and pulling the door open.

"Hello." A voice said from the other side of the door, and Keito expected Yamada to make some movement, to express if this intruder was friend or foe, but the younger man just stood there, frozen in the doorway, staring.

"Ryosuke, what is it? Is everything—shit." Daiki's concerned questions dropped off mid sentence as he caught sight of the person standing on their doorstep, and his reaction caused the rest of them to get to their feet, Keito standing with them, taking the few steps he needed to see past the door, and once he did his heart stopped in his chest, disbelief and grief mixing with pure joy the instant he caught sight of the man, because at first glance it was obvious who it was. It was the one person Keito wanted to see most in the world. It was the one person he couldn't. _Shoon._


	6. Chapter 6

Only it wasn't Shoon. This man looked strikingly like him, yet upon closer inspection it became obvious that there too many differences between this man and Shoon. He was taller, his eyes smaller than Shoon's. He parted his hair on the wrong side, and his freckles were in the wrong places. His jawline wasn't right. The longer Keito looked at him, the more the man grew to look less and less like his dead boyfriend. But the aftershocks had left his heart pounding in his chest, his throat Ftight, and he knew that he was staring. The man on their doorstep seemed taken aback by their reactions to his appearance, and he took a sweeping glance of all of their faces, Keito feeling as if a bucket of ice were dropped into his stomach as their eyes met for a moment across the space. It was haunting, twisted somehow—seeing Shoon in the man’s gaze, and yet not—and after apparently not finding anything in his glance that gave him any new information, the man said

"Sorry, but I'm looking for Yamashita Shoon. Is he here?" Luckily, Inoo seemed to recover from the shock fastest, saying

"Oh, please come in." It was then that Takaki turned away, rushing over to Hikaru's office door and knocking harshly. After a moment the door was pushed open forcefully, Hikaru obviously angry with the blatant disregard for his request to be left undisturbed, and he was glaring at Takaki as he spoke

"What the fuck do you—" It was then that he caught sight of the strange man just inside the door taking off his shoes, and his eyes widened, all anger gone as he gasped. "Shit."

"He...he's looking for Shoon." Chinen informed their leader, his tone betraying his confusion, and for perhaps the first time since Hikaru had taken over the Kumi-cho position, the younger man was obviously looking to Hikaru to _tell them what to do_. It took Hikaru a moment to find his voice, and he faltered before stepping forward, introducing himself and bowing. The other man's eyes caught on Hikaru's tattooed arm, obviously just beginning to realize what kind of people they were. But he smiled, bowing in return and introducing himself as Inue Reon.

"Please, have a seat Inue-san." Hikaru said, gesturing to the couch. "If you could get us some tea please, Daiki." Daiki disappeared into the kitchen, and the man took a seat tentatively on one of their couches, Hikaru sitting and turning to face him. The rest of them all sat nearby, in empty space on the couch or on the floor, forming a ring around the coffee table. Keito found himself squished between Yuto and Takaki, Yuto slinging an arm around his shoulders comfortingly as Daiki returned with tea for their guest, and they all turned their attention to him.

"How can I help you, Inue-san?" Hikaru asked, as the man drew the cup away from his lips.

"I was hoping to speak with Yamashita Shoon. I don't suppose he's here?" He let his eyes travel over all of their faces again, a glint of hope in them that one of them would announce that they were the man he was searching for. Hikaru seemed completely perplexed, and he said

"What business do you have with Shoon?" The man flushed, obviously embarrassed, and he said

"Well...he doesn't know me, but...I'm his little brother."

"What?!" Yuto yelped, and Hikaru turned a disapproving glance down on Keito's friend, silencing him at once. It was then that Reon launched into his story.

"My birth name was Yamashita Reon. I was adopted as a baby, and while it was a great life, I grew up without ever knowing what happened to my birth family. Two years ago when I turned twenty, I decided to try and find my birth parents. It didn't take long for me to find record of my parents' deaths. I thought that would be the end of my search when I found the papers. But the articles about the incident I found said that they'd left behind two sons. One—the newborn—was me, but there was another, a two year old. I've been looking for him ever since.

"I found the orphanage he was taken to, and I found out that his name was Shoon. I asked if he'd been adopted, and if any of them knew of his whereabouts, but they didn't have much information. They said he'd only been with them for a short time before he had disappeared one night. There had been search efforts, but he'd never been found. They gave me this picture—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a wallet and handing Hikaru a small photograph. "—but that was all. For the better part of the past two years I've been gathering all of the information I could, trying to find out what happened to my brother." He sighed, raising his teacup up to his lips as Hikaru passed the photograph around. Keito felt a sharp pain in his chest when it got to him. It was obviously Shoon, the child in the photograph had those same wide eyes, and they looked hauntingly sad for such a small child.

"After a couple of dead ends I eventually found a license to practice law under the name I was looking for. From there I managed to trace him to his law firm, and I was led to an apartment on the other side of town, and then after some searching, it brought me here. I don't really know anything about him, but...I was hoping to finally get to meet my brother." Yabu, the one closest to Reon, handed him back the photo of Shoon. Reon thanked him, slipping it back into his wallet, and he asked, his eyes pleading "Do you know where he is?" The silence following that question was deafening, Hikaru pursing his lips, obviously trying to figure out how he was going to explain to Reon that his search had come to a fruitless end.

"Yes." He finally conceded, Reon's face lighting up in excitement and Keito winced, Yuto's grip growing tight on his shoulder. "Inue-san, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but...your brother is dead. He died nine months ago, after a six year long battle with brain cancer. I'm so sorry." Reon froze, his eyes wide, and the smile slipped from his lips. After a minute of silence, the younger man asked

"Are you sure it was him? It wasn't a different Yamashita Shoon?" Hikaru nodded, leaning forward and grabbing the photo album from it's place on the coffee table, pulling it open to an old picture of Shoon, taken back when he was still a child.

"Look for yourself. Does that boy look like the one in your photograph?" Reon gasped, leaning in to look at the image properly.

"Wow." He murmured. "I can't believe it." His expression had morphed into one of sadness, and he looked up at them. "You all knew him?" They nodded as a group, and to Keito's surprise Reon began to cry, a tear rolling slowly down his cheek.

"There are lots of pictures of him in here." Inoo told the man, leaning in and turning the page. "This was his photo album. He took lots of pictures."

"He was very important to us." Yamada said, from his place next to Daiki. "If it weren't for him...I would be dead."

"Me too." Hikaru murmured.

"He's the reason we're all here." Yabu conceded. "He raised most of us."

"Really?" Reon looked at them in surprise, his eyes wide and wet, and his expressions and speech patterns were so like his brothers that it was almost painful to watch, Keito finding himself unable to look away, as he caught glimpses of the man he had loved in this stranger.

"Yeah." Yuto told Reon, nodding. "He saved us. All of us." There was a silence, everyone registering that thought, their grief all strong in their faces, and Keito felt his tears coming on as he said

"He loved us. And we loved him. Very much." Reon looked down at the photo album for a few moments, and there was some sniffling and eye wiping in the silence, before he said

"Could you tell me about him? I want to know what kind of person my brother was." Hikaru nodded, and so they did. They told Reon all of their favorite stories about Shoon. They told him about how he'd loved to celebrate holidays, about how he'd made them all learn despite not going to school, about how he'd loved tea. They told him about how he'd taken them all in. They told him the little things. They told him about what made Shoon laugh, and what made him cry. They told him about Shoon's pride, about his love, and about how much joy he'd brought to their lives. It was the first time Keito had ever heard any of his housemates talk about Shoon, and an understanding struck him, his mind reeling with the realization that he really hadn't been alone in his grief.

He had known _logically_ that they had been affected by Shoon's loss. Yet he'd felt somehow that his housemates would not be able to understand how he had been feeling, but the more they talked the more he realized that they did understand. They felt the loss of the older man in a very real, very harsh way. They had loved him too. It felt very comforting to come to understand this, and for the first time in a long time, Keito felt like he wasn't alone. They told stories for hours, the ten of them going through their album with Reon, talking and laughing and crying, and by the end of it all there was this feeling that some healing had been done, amongst all of them.

It grew to be late, and they offered Reon a seat at their table for dinner, but the young man politely refused, thanking them for everything they had shared with him, and for helping him to understand who his brother was. And despite that Keito still _missed_ Shoon, after Reon had gone he found himself somehow able to eat better, to sleep better, and he wanted to thank their surprise guest for helping _him._

This emotional growth Keito felt came at a vital time, as within the week he was faced with a date he'd been dreading. It had been looming in the back of his mind, a dread tugging at his organs whenever he let himself realize just how close it was. He didn't know what to do, or how to handle it, but before he really felt he was prepared June twenty-first was upon him. If Shoon had been alive they would have spent the day in celebration—it would have been their anniversary, their second anniversary together.

They would have probably gone out for dinner, something nice. Shoon would have swung by and picked him up, wearing a suit and tie—a more expensive one than the ones he wore for work—and Keito would have too. He would compliment Keito once they were out of the house, and they would have walked to the restaurant, talking and holding hands. Keito would be hyper aware of the small gift box he'd shoved into his jacket pocket—some sort of jewelry, probably—and he'd marvel at Shoon's beauty in the last lights of the setting sun.

Once at the restaurant they'd order some wine, but neither would really drink it. They'd hold hands across the table, and Shoon would embarrass Keito by having a waiter take their picture. After the meal they'd discuss the food as they made their way to Shoon's apartment, where Shoon would pour some tea, and Keito would give him the present. They'd whisper their _'I love you'_s, and that would be when they'd finally fall into each other, lips hot on skin. Keito would spend the night there, and in the morning he would wake up early and cook breakfast for the two of them. As it was, none of that was plausible.

He tried to eat in the morning, but he had no interest in his food, and in the end he only managed to choke down a few bites. He contemplated going to visit Shoon; the older man's ashes had been buried with Taiyo's. But he wasn't sure he was ready for that trip, remembering how hard it had been to make the previous October on Taiyo's death anniversary. So instead he found himself in the shrine room. It was a tiny room, barely bigger than a closet, and it was rather hidden, the only way in through a door in the laundry room. It held pictures of Taiyo and Shoon, candles and ceremonial items, and Keito prayed properly, not sure what he was there to do.

He found himself reminiscing, remembering all of their big moments together—when they'd first met, their first kiss, their first date, his first visit to Shoon's apartment, their six month anniversary, their one year anniversary, their last kiss, their last _'I love you'_—all of it. The grieving and the loss didn't hit him nearly as strongly as it had a mere six months ago, the pain much less physically debilitating. He cried. He hadn't really expected to, but he did. He hid in the shrine room most of the day, and he went to bed early, skipping dinner. He didn't feel up for the task of eating, much less any socialization with his housemates. None of them were aware of the reason for his distress, the importance of the date not one he felt like sharing, but they gave him space, and Keito was glad to be left alone.


	7. Chapter 7

It was barely two days later, Keito in the living room, engaged in a fierce game of mahjong with Yuto, Chinen, and Yamada when Hikaru emerged from his office. Their leader was in a fine suit, black on black, his pin of their clan's crest on his lapel, marking him as someone of importance. His tattoos peeked out over the collar of his suit, the black designs creeping up his neck. He looked striking. He looked like a force to be reckoned with, and Keito's attention was pulled from the game completely when he walked in. Yuto blinked up at their leader in surprise, saying

"You know that Johnny's memorial service isn't for another week and a half, right Kumi-cho?" Hikaru didn't smile at the joke, his eyes wide, his fingers twitchy. He was nervous.

"Where's Yabu? If that bastard makes us late I swear I'm going to chop off one of his legs." Hikaru all but growled, but just as he spoke his right hand man appeared on the stairs, dressed sharply in one of his best suits, but Hikaru didn't seem any calmer when he saw him. Now all four playing the game had diverted their attention, everyone thrown off by the tension radiating from their leader.

"Kumi-cho? What's―"

"Shut up, Yamada." Yabu said abruptly, cutting the younger man off as he reached the landing. "We'll tell you all tonight...assuming everything goes to plan."

"It'll work. It'll work." Hikaru muttered, pursing his lips and exhaling sharply. "Let's go, Yabuchii." Yabu blinked in surprise at the use of his childhood nickname, but he nodded, silently following Hikaru out the door. Keito watched them go in bewilderment, Yuto calling out a nonplussed

"Good luck!" at their backs. Once they'd gone Chinen huffed, folding his arms across his tiny chest.

"That was aggravatingly secretive. What the fuck is their deal?" At that Yamada smirked, glancing over that their former leader and saying teasingly

"Says you, the man who had a secret boyfriend for something like six years." Chinen rolled his eyes, picking up a tile and effectively resuming their game. "We didn't date straight for six years. It was a very messy on again off again type situation. You should be glad you weren't aware of that disaster. Especially in 2010. It was a nightmare, honestly."

"What was a nightmare, Yuri?" Ryutaro's voice called, preceding him as he came down the stairs. He walked over to his boyfriend, Chinen reaching out and dragging him closer, his tone blunt but his gaze full of affection as he said

"You." Ryutaro snorted indignantly, a smirk growing on his lips as he leaned in for a kiss, his voice low.

"Look who's talking." They made eyes at each other, neither of the two actually initiating a kiss, just sitting there, pressed in close. It was then that Yamada yelled

"You're gross! If you're going to fuck just get a room and stop looking at each other like that." Yuto giggled, and Keito blushed at the insinuation, but Chinen just smiled, looking up at Ryu. Despite the younger boy's presence they returned full force to their game, Yamada winning and claiming his prize money. Afterward Ryutaro came and sat next to Keito on the couch, watching as Yuto picked up the last of his tiles from the table.

"So Daiki, Inoo and I were talking the other day, and it's been...three months since you woke up from that last coma. You're looking a lot better, Keito." Keito blinked in surprise, not expecting Ryutaro to compliment him in any way. It just wasn't something the kid did. He was brutally honest, and he chose his words, not willing to hold back his opinion to spare anyone's feelings. Keito nodded in thanks, wondering what had brought this on. But Ryutaro wasn't finished yet. "We were kinda thinking...since your mobility has been so much better recently, and I can't count your ribs through your shirt anymore, that maybe it might be a good time to start trying to spar again." He paused, letting that idea sink in. Keito hadn't aimed a fist at anything since their raid at the end of February, and even before then he hadn't done much in the way of fighting.

"We'd be willing to help you get back up to par, and I'm sure the others would too. It could even be fun." Keito was surprised by the coaxing, but Ryutaro was right. He'd lain around long enough. It was time he started training for his next fight; they never knew when they'd be attacked, and the kumi couldn't afford to have him drop the ball. Especially if it meant that someone else could get hurt.

"Sure, let's do it." Ryutaro grinned.

"Great! When do you want to start?" Keito shrugged, glancing around and finding the two of them now more or less alone, their housemates having all moved to the kitchen in a hunt for snacks.

"Now?" He offered. "I mean, if you want. I have nothing better to do." It was then however, that Chinen peeked around a corner, catching Ryutaro's eye and motioning up the stairs. Ryu immediately got to his feet, blushing a bit as he said

"Maybe...could you ask Daiki? I've got..." His face grew even redder, but he didn't back down, already inching over toward Chinen. Keito found it rather amusing to see them so open about their relationship, especially after having kept it hidden for so long. They seemed happy, Chinen especially, the younger man more and more physically affectionate with all of them, more prone to smiling and joining in the conversations. Keito mused that this new situation―Chinen having given up the leadership position, but having _gained_ the ability to be open about his relationship with Ryutaro, and to just be himself, without worry of the consequences―was definitely a more healthy one for his housemate. Chinen was blooming now that he'd stopped restraining himself, and it was in turn bringing Ryutaro even more out of his shell. Keito nodded, motioning for Ryu to just _go,_ and the younger boy skittered away, he and Chinen retreating back upstairs together.

"Ah!" Yuto's shout caught Keito by surprise, and he turned, startled, to look at his friend. Yuto was pointing at _him_ a big grin plastered on his face as he said, almost accusingly "Keito smiled!" Keito didn't know how to react to that, so he didn't. Yuto however, was extremely excited, saying "I saw it! A genuine smile!" He came closer, wrapping his arms around Keito roughly, squeezing him tight, his strong arms constricting Keito's breathing.

"Yuto...could you―"

"What's all the noise about?" Daiki asked, tromping down the stairs, looking confused and a little disgruntled.

"Keito smiled!" Yuto declared. Daiki turned to Keito.

"Did you really?" Not sure, Keito just shrugged. Daiki scoffed.

"He did! I saw it!" Yuto insisted. Keito didn't see why his friend was making such a fuss, and regardless he wasn't even sure if he actually had smiled anyway, so while Yuto would tell anyone that would listen, Keito himself didn't say anything. Keito didn't end up being able to start sparring that afternoon, despite his conversation with Ryutaro. His housemates all seemed to become busy as soon as he became free, the lot of them either off swindling girls or getting into high stakes poker games or simply not around. Finally, right before dinner was about to start Takaki came home, offering to help Keito out, but it just wasn't meant to be.

They were on their way to the alley that ran in front of their home when the front door burst open, an ear splitting whoop drowning out all other sound for a long moment, Hikaru standing there and just yelling, his face all scrunched up. As he yelled he rocked further and further back on his heels, bending his knees and throwing his head back. It was a happy sound, an excited sound, and the rest of them all froze, staring in bewildered awe at their leader. Never had Keito seen Hikaru like this. Finally the older man stopped, returning to his full posture, and Yabu appeared behind him, an eye engulfing grin on the taller man's face, and he let out a much shorter, smaller cheer, pumping one fist in the air. Next to him, Keito heard Takaki mutter

"What the fucking hell?!"

"I did it! We did it!" Hikaru declared, coming into the house and flicking the door shut, a grin plastered across his face. By this point all of them had heard the noise and had abandoned whatever they had been doing, bewildered looks all trained on Hikaru. "I can't believe we pulled this shit off. Fuck." Hikaru said, turning to Yabu. The older man just nodded, blinking empathetically.

"Sorry Kumi-cho, but WHAT THE HELL?" Inoo yelled, his question backed up by lots of nodding on the part of their housemates. Hikaru just laughed, not upset in the slightest by the outburst, and he said

"Is dinner going to be ready soon?"

"Five minutes."

"I need to change out of this suit then." He started heading for his living quarters, acting as if he hadn't just made a big display, as if nothing unusual had happened at all. "I'll tell you at dinner!" He called out, the words trailing behind him as he disappeared into his office. Yabu too went upstairs to change, leaving the other eight of them all staring at each other in bewilderment.

"Well...I guess we should hurry up and set the table then." Keito said quietly, Takaki snorting bemusedly but nodding, the two of them turning back to the kitchen. There was speculation as to what Hikaru could be screaming about, but none of them truly had any idea as to what would cause their leader to behave that way. Keito's only thought on the matter was that it was probably whatever had been taking up so much of Hikaru's time in the past months, and he hoped that it―whatever it was―was now over, and Hikaru could relax. Just as it had been predicted, five minutes later the food was ready and the table was set. Yabu and Hikaru reappeared, dressed down, the both of them in ragged old jeans and tank tops. There was an excited tension in the air as everyone took their seats, and silence engulfed them, everyone looking expectantly at their leader. Finally, Hikaru spoke

"For a while now I've had a big project I've been working on. The foundations for this were actually lain by Chinen, it was one of his last acts as Kumi-cho. So we have him to thank for making this opportunity for us." Chinen gasped, eyes wide with understanding, and Hikaru's smile grew wider, nodding in confirmation to the former leader. Chinen cursed under his breath, as Hikaru continued. "This has been a very long time incoming, and it's been a very delicate process, but with help from Yabu, today I finally managed to close a deal that expands our territory. Without any bloodshed, we have managed to nearly double the area that belongs to us. We've now got jurisdiction across the river, to the west covering all of the university campus and the surrounding housing, and continuing north up the riverside through the southern half of the neighboring town."

"What?" Yamada sounded shocked. Numb. Keito understood the feeling. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been _this_.

"For real?" Inoo squeaked out, and Hikaru nodded.

"Shit." Ryutaro murmured. "Shit. He's not joking." Hikaru smiled, nodding slightly, and Keito just watched in amazement as what this meant for them registered with their housemates. More territory meant more money coming in, it meant more businesses paying protection fees, and now with the addition of the university, his housemates had a practically endless supply of naive girls to swindle. It meant they had more power here, and in the Kitagawa Group, and Keito found himself smiling, because Hikaru had done this for them. He'd had a goal, and he'd succeeded. Keito had never in his lifetime heard of a kumi expanding this much without fighting and bloodshed, and he felt a glowing pride growing in his chest as he looked at Hikaru. He was so proud of Hikaru. He was proud to call him his companion, his leader. It was amazing. There were cheers, whoops of celebration and amazed curses, and the boys on either side of Yabu were patting their friend on the back. It was then that Hikaru turned specifically to Yuto, saying seriously

"I really, truly am grateful for your help in handling that drug dealer, and I've been wanting to do something to show my appreciation." Yuto opened his mouth to defer the thanks, but Hikaru held up a hand, stopping him. "And so, as a thank you I reworked the agreement and I managed to secure the cemetery where Raiya's buried in the new territory for you." Yuto's eyes grew wide, and there was a moment where he was obviously stunned, just frozen there, looking at Hikaru. And he bit at his bottom lip, tears suddenly welling up. Keito watched, happiness for his friend making his own smile grow bigger. Yuto finally just let out a choked sob, and he stood, launching himself at Hikaru and wrapping his arms around the older man in a hug. He let murmured thanks fall from his lips in a mantra, and Hikaru hugged him back, smiling as he pulled the taller man close.

The rest of the night was spent in celebration, Yabu procuring a bottle of champagne, and everyone in high spirits. They all teased Yuto for crying, Yuto too happy to be mad, and there was one resounding thought that Daiki voiced toward the end of the evening, during the ten person poker game. "We're going to be all anyone's talking about at Johnny's memorial service." There were grins at that thought, and Keito couldn't help but watch Hikaru that night, enjoying watching the older man looking so triumphant. So relaxed and happy. And as he did, he realized that he felt―just a little―happy too. In small groups they all eventually went to bed, Keito resisting the sleep heavy on his eyelids, watching them all go, waiting until finally he and Hikaru were the last ones up, Hikaru slowly cleaning up the playing cards scattered on the kitchen table. They'd fallen into a comfortable silence, before Keito finally said

"Thank you." Hikaru looked back over his shoulder at him in mild confusion. "For working so hard for us, I know it's been tough." Keito clarified. "I...I'm really proud of you." He murmured, his voice getting softer as he got more self conscious. "I'm probably being stupid, but..." Hikaru had set the cards down, and the older man leaned forward, from where he was on his knees on the ground, Keito leaning in to meet him, so that Hikaru wouldn't have to stretch so much, and Hikaru put a warm hand on his shoulder.

"It's not stupid, Keito." Hikaru assured him. "I appreciate your sentiment." He paused. "It makes me happy." Keito nodded, and Hikaru retracted his arm, pulling himself to his feet. "Now, you go to bed. I heard you're going to start sparring again tomorrow. You're going to need all the sleep you can get—they're going to hand you your ass on a platter." Keito nodded, standing as well, and with a small nod he shuffled up the stairs, and into his bed.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Keito—as Hikaru had so eloquently put it—got his ass handed to him. Shortly after breakfast Ryutaro dragged him out to the alley for his first attempt at sparring since February. It was embarrassing how bad he'd gotten. Ryutaro didn't even attack him really, the younger boy just sitting back and defending himself against Keito's attacks, and yet in the end it was Keito that was sweaty, exhausted, and sprawled out on the pavement, Ryutaro pulling him to his feet. They broke for lunch, and then afterwards Keito went back out, this time with Inoo, and they worked on his knife skills for a few hours. This exercise didn't require his physical strength, but it did require precision, and Keito's hands had gained an exhausted tremor after having trained so hard with Ryutaro, and he slipped up, cutting himself a lot.

By the time he was finally done for the day his whole body was trembling with exhaustion and drenched in sweat, he had frustrated tears in his eyes, and his hands and blade were covered in his own blood. Despite that Inoo just clapped him on the shoulder, telling him they'd pick up where they left off tomorrow. Keito just nodded meekly, not feeling that he had enough energy to expend any on speaking, and he followed Inoo inside. He felt like he had when he'd first joined the kumi nearly three years ago. He felt slow, and weak, and inferior. The only difference was that this time he knew he could do better. This time he was rebuilding skills that had grown rusty, and so it was a bit better in that he knew what to do, but it was also much more frustrating, because he hadn't expected to be _this_ bad.

Keito barely kept his eyes open through dinner, and he went to bed early, feeling himself slipping into sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. And so in this manner his days continued. He started wrapping his hands to protect them after his first day, and it helped that Inoo began insisting that _he_ get Keito first, so that his hands would be more steady during their training sessions. Ryu, Daiki, Yamada, Yuto, and Takaki all helped Keito work on his hand to hand combat skills. They were all patient with him, but Keito enjoyed working with Takaki and Yuto the best, their fighting styles closest to his own. It didn't matter who he sparred with however, he always managed to end up worse for wear than his opponent, and any time not spent fighting or eating was spent asleep.

It was a little over a week after this routine started when one evening he'd found himself sprawled out on the couch, tired but too sore to get up the will to drag himself to bed. He lay there, mind blank, when suddenly he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, and he blinked, craning his head back just enough to see Hikaru standing behind the couch, the older man looking down at him, a small smile on his lips.

"You hurting?" Hikaru asked, Keito scrunching up his face and letting out a small whine in response, Hikaru chuckling. "Okay. Here, take off your shirt for me." Keito did as he was told, letting his tank top crumple to the floor at his feet, before Hikaru pushed him down onto the couch face first, the older man straddling his hips, leaning forward, his large hands running along Keito's shoulders as he murmured "I'll help you out. I haven't been able to practice with you yet anyway." Keito just lay there silently, as Hikaru leaned over his bare torso, the older man's dexterous fingers working their way along his shoulders, relieving tension and relaxing his muscles.

Keito hummed in appreciation, closing his eyes, and reveling in the feeling of Hikaru's hands on his skin. Hikaru let out a breath, and Keito could sense that he was smiling, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence. Hikaru started with Keito's shoulders, slowly working his way down Keito's arms and then following his spine down his back, the older man occasionally having to shift himself so that he could reach an area better, his body adjusting from where he was essentially sitting on Keito's thighs. Keito would lean into his touch, adjusting just slightly to arch a patch of bare skin into Hikaru's hands, his breath catching in his throat whenever Hikaru came into contact with a spot that was aching severely, and it was in the manner that he conveyed to Hikaru just how appreciative he was that the older man was doing this for him.

Keito didn't remember falling asleep, but he was woken by Hikaru's voice soft in his ear

"C'mon Keito, you can't sleep here." Groggily he pulled himself to his feet, apologizing for falling asleep, and Hikaru didn't say anything, just smiling and nodding, and Keito took a step, intending to go to bed, but—not paying attention to where he was stepping—he tripped over one of the coffee table's legs, his body pitching forward. Hikaru cursed, and Keito felt a strong arm yank him backwards, Hikaru pulling him to his chest, the both of them suddenly wide awake, hearts racing from the close call. It took Keito a moment to regain himself, Hikaru's arm still wrapped tightly around his bare abdomen.

"What the fuck Keito! Is there ever going to be a time you don't try to scare the shit out of me?!" Hikaru said sharply, Keito feeling the older man's heart pounding, the two of them taking big, gulping breaths as they tried to calm down.

"Sorry."

"Can you walk upstairs on your own, or do you need me to carry you?" Hikaru asked, this question said without any malice, the older man obviously calming down. Keito blushed at the insinuation that he couldn't handle the simple task himself, and he said

"I can do it, Kumi-cho." Hikaru dropped the arm from around Keito's body, nodding. Keito glanced back at him, the air feeling cold against his skin after being pressed up against Hikaru's warm body, and he bowed his head a bit.

"Good night."

"Good night, Keito." To his pride, Keito managed to make it up the stairs, and into bed, without any more trouble.

Keito woke to Yuto pulling their suits out of their shared closet, his roommate hooking the hangers onto their bed frame with care. It took him a moment to figure out why—Johnny's memorial service. They went down for breakfast in their pajamas, changing into suits after they'd eaten. Just as in previous years they all were in their funeral suits, black ties with white dress shirts, and it didn't take long for them all to be ready to go, Hikaru leading the group down to the underling housing, where the boys were waiting for them. The underlings all had suits, each and every one of them was in black, ties tied neatly around their throats. Keito got a strong sense of déjà vu as the kids all bowed, Shintaro and his group stepping up and shaking Hikaru's hand before the kids fell into step behind them, Hikaru leading them around a few corners to where some buses were waiting for them.

And, just like the previous year, Keito felt anxiety winding up in his stomach. His father was going to be there. The last time he'd seen his father had been Shoon's funeral, and the last time his father had seen him he had been in a coma. Keito still didn't know practically anyone outside of his nine housemates and a handful of underlings when it came to the Kitagawa Group, and he had this feeling that—just like last year—that he'd be singled out by the rest of them. He pursed his lips, sitting in silence on the way to the cemetery, but his anxiety must have shown on his face, because as soon as they got off their bus he felt a comforting arm sling itself across his shoulders, Hikaru pulling him to his side, as Yuto stepped over, giving Keito a small smile.

Keito found himself swept along, squished comfortingly between his best friend and his leader, and once the formalities were done he found himself just following their lead, and the three of them—along with Yabu, who'd taken up post on Hikaru's other side—bounced through dozens of conversations. It seemed that Daiki's prediction had been right; all any of the other men wanted to talk about was the territory expansion deal Hikaru had clinched, dozens of men offering their praise and congratulations. Keito learned many new names through these conversations, and he did his best to commit them to memory, knowing it would be of use in the future. These men from other Kumis already seemed to know all of them, greeting Keito's companions by name, and referring to Keito himself as either _Young Master_ or—to his immense surprise—_Stone Prince_.

The first time someone outside of the underlings called Keito that Yuto had to stifle a giggle, the taller man pursing his lips, his eyes shining with a silent laughter. After a bit Yabu broke away from the group, yelling suddenly at a group of short men all standing around together

"Tottsu!" A black haired man turned at the call, a smile breaking out on his face, and waved as Yabu took long strides over to greet him. It was only a few minutes later that the man Keito had been looking for caught sight of them, Kenichi immediately dropping the conversation he'd been having and making his way over to the three of them. Hikaru and Yuto immediately fell into low bows, Keito dropping his head too, albeit a bit belatedly. Kenichi smiled at them as they raised their heads, saying

"Hikaru! You're the man of the hour. All anyone can talk about is that deal you pulled." Keito blinked in surprise at the casual way his father spoke to Hikaru, but then he remembered that it had been his dad that had taken Hikaru and Yabu in—along with Shoon and Taiyo—back when the Heisei Kumi had been created. He'd known Hikaru for many many years. Hikaru nodded, looking—to Keito's slight amusement—meek.

"It seems that way, sir." Kenichi's smile just grew, and he clapped Hikaru on the shoulder.

"That was a very impressive move on your part. A lot of the men here could learn from you." Hikaru bowed his head, a smile blooming on his face at the praise, and Keito felt a swell of pride in his chest as his father complimented Hikaru.

"Thank you, sir."

"Yuto-kun!" Kenichi said, turning his attention to Keito's tall friend. Yuto jumped, obviously extremely nervous, and he swallowed, looking over at the Oyabun. "It's good to see you kid. How have you been?" Yuto blinked in surprise at the light, personal conversation, and he said hesitantly

"Well sir."

"Keeping Keito out of trouble?" Kenichi asked teasingly. Yuto glanced wide eyed over at Keito, obviously still bewildered by what was going on, and Keito nodded reassuringly at his friend. After a moment Yuto responded.

"Trying to get him into a little bit, sir." That caused the older man to laugh, and he nodded.

"Good man." Yuto nodded, relief that his remark had gone over well visible on his face, and it was then that Kenichi finally turned his attention to Keito, dismissing the other two so that they were alone. "Keito!" He finally exclaimed, opening his arms, and Keito threw himself into them, his chest feeling tight as he pulled his father in for a hug.

"Dad." He murmured, squeezing tightly for a few moments.

"Last time I saw you they weren't sure you were going to make it." Kenichi said quietly, once they'd pulled apart. Keito bit at his bottom lip, nodding.

"I'm all better now." Keito said. "See?" He lifted his chin, showing his father the new scar running along his throat, still deep red. Kenichi nodded, but his brow was still furrowed, obviously concerned. "I've been gaining weight too." Keito continued, trying to appease him. "I'm working out now—everyone's helping me train—and Yuto is making sure I eat properly." He looked down at his shoes, embarrassed by his admission that he hadn't been feeding himself properly, but Kenichi nodded.

"Good. I couldn't believe how much weight you'd lost when I visited back in March. Hikaru had been giving me updates about you over the phone, but hearing about something and _seeing_ it just aren't the same." He sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "Yuto's a good kid." Keito blinked in surprise, he hadn't known Hikaru kept in contact with his dad. But he nodded. Yuto was fantastic. There was a small silence before Kenichi asked "So...how are you doing?" Keito understood the unspoken _without Shoon,_ left off of the end of his father's sentence, and he shrugged, not going to lie.

"Recently I've been better than before. I mean...I miss him, but...it's much more bearable now. It isn't a physical pain most of the time anymore. I know it's taken a long time but...I've started feeling happier. Just a little, but it's been really good. I've felt like....like even if it isn't right now, one day it's going to be okay. I feel like one day—one day soon maybe—I will be better, and just having that hope has been helping me to get through every day." He paused. "Plus everyone has been helping me a lot. I'm really lucky I have them." His thoughts were all muddled up, and he wasn't sure if his words were sufficient in conveying how he truly felt, but they seemed to be enough for his dad, Kenichi nodding.

"I have something for you." He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small black cell phone, handing it to Keito. "I don't want you to feel alone. I'm first and foremost your father, and I so instead of Hikaru giving me updates on your well being I was thinking that perhaps you could just give me a call every once and a while. I've already programmed my personal number in there." He gave Keito a small smile. "How does that sound?" Keito blinked down in surprise at the small, boxy little device, and he nodded, smiling. He hadn't thought he'd wanted a cell phone, but the prospect of being able to call his father at will was one that was very appealing to him, and he tucked it safely into his pocket.

"Thank you." He said, and his dad just smiled at him, pulling him in for another hug.

"You know I love you, Keito." It came out sounding like a question, and Keito nodded into his father's shoulder, taking a deep breath as he felt gratitude wash over him, tears pooling in his eyes.

Shortly afterwards Keito and his father parted ways, Kenichi's attention being stolen by a group of three older men. Keito found himself bobbing and weaving through crowds of unfamiliar men and boys until he found Daiki and Yamada, the two engaged in conversation with an unfamiliar pair that were quickly introduced as Tackey-san and Tsubasa-san, Yamada explaining that they'd been discussing the pair's recent marriage. Keito blinked in surprise, his eyes immediately zipping down to the men's hands, where sure enough, they were each wearing matching gold bands. He quickly shared his congratulations, and they in turn thanked him, small self contented smiles on their faces.

Keito stuck by Yamada and Daiki until it was time to go, Yuto eventually joining their little group right before Hikaru began to gather everyone, Keito taking the chance to tell his friend

"Dad likes you." Yuto cringed, cursing lowly

"He's going to kill me, one day I swear. I can't believe the fucking _Oyabun_ asked me _how I was."_

"I still don't see why you're so afraid of him, Yuto." Keito remarked, clambering onto their bus.

"I just don't understand why he pays any attention to me! Which is scary, because if I do something wrong one day, he'll put me in concrete shoes at the bottom of the bay!" Yuto exclaimed dramatically, and Keito raised his eyebrows skeptically. Kenichi's brief discussion with Yuto became the main topic of conversation all the way home, Keito listening amusedly to his companions descriptions of his father. In the end, Johnny's death anniversary had been a positive experience, yet in the back of Keito's mind it was a small reminder that in another month there'd be a much harder anniversary to get through—the one year anniversary of Shoon's death.


	9. Chapter 9

It was easy for Keito to push the upcoming anniversary from his mind. His new vigorous exercise routine had become his main focus, and it required all of his energy. He spent every day from morning to night working on building up his muscle, training his body back into shape, and it was working. He could see himself returning to his figure before Shoon's passing; his figure from before he'd stopped eating. His arms were getting bigger, his stomach gaining a thick layer of muscle, his ribs hidden under his pectorals. There was just _more. _He had more body to sustain, and because of it his appetite increased immensely, much to Yuto's delight. It took his stomach a few days to adjust to the new food intake, but soon he was able to eat four full meals a day without any trouble.

He found that regaining muscle he'd lost was easier than building it up from scratch, and it helped that he had so many willing participants to help with sparing practice. Literally everyone worked with him in the weeks following Johnny's memorial event. Some days they'd even just do consecutive fighting to build up his stamina. Keito would be locked in a constant battle, while his housemates would tap out once they wanted a break, someone fresh taking their place. Those days were the most exhausting, but it was fun to get everyone involved. It was like a game for them—and through it was at Keito's expense—he liked having all ten of them together. And so like that weeks went by, until one day during his lunch break Yabu announced

"I need to borrow Keito for a bit." Keito blinked up at the older man in surprise. Yamada frowned.

"We were just about to get back out there. It was Dai-chan's turn next." Yabu shook his head.

"Sorry. He needs to come with me to the flower shop." There was a heavy silence as those words sank in, Yamada and Daiki both nodding, suddenly a lot more sullen. Keito got to his feet, his appetite gone, and he murmured

"Just let me shower first." Yabu nodded, and Keito slipped up stairs, quickly going through the motions, slipping on jeans and a t-shirt, and with a quiet nod of approval from Yabu the two of them stepped outside. The sky was overcast, dark and gray, and the smell of rain was in the air. Yabu glanced up at it, his brow furrowed.

"Let's hope it doesn't rain. I don't have an umbrella." Keito nodded, following Yabu, about one pace behind the older man. He'd forgotten just how close Shoon's death day was—barely a week off—but at Yabu's words the realization had slammed into him full force, and he felt numb. It couldn't have been almost a year already. It hadn't felt like a full year. A year since he'd last seen Shoon's face. Since he'd held his hand. It was strange to think about, and it manifested as an ache in his chest. "Keito. Hey, Keito!" He jolted in surprise, Yabu's voice wrenching him from his thoughts. "You listening to me?" The tall man asked, Keito feeling embarrassed as he shook his head.

"I said you're just placing the order today. We'll have them have the flowers ready on the sixth, and the limo driver will pick them up before meeting us, so they'll be waiting for you. Kumi-cho and I just thought maybe you should pick the bouquet." Keito nodded as the flower shop came into view, and Yabu shoved his hands into his pockets, letting Keito go in first. The place was bright, colorful, and the girl behind the counter was cheerful, smiling and greeting them. Keito was overwhelmed for a moment by all of it, and he just stood there, taking all of the plants in. He had to pick the flowers he wanted to bring to Shoon's grave...he didn't know how to begin getting through this process, emotionally or physically.

"Can I help you?" The girl behind the counter asked, and Keito turned to Yabu, confused as to the process he needed to go through. Yabu took pity on him, telling the girl

"We've got a grave visit next week that we'd like to place an order for." She nodded, Yabu turning to Keito and saying

"Just pick some that you like. They can make it look pretty. I'll take care of the logistics." Keito nodded, Yabu turning his attention back to the girl at the counter, while Keito began wandering the shop. There were more types of flowers in that small space than Keito had ever seen in his life, and he tried to focus less on the fact that they would be going on Shoon's grave, and more on just the simple elegance of the blooms, trying to find something that caught his eye. It didn't take more than a few minutes, a vase of large orange flowers with long curling petals, and spots enrapturing him. He stood there, admiring them for a few moments, before Yabu came back with the store worker, the older man noticing the flowers immediately.

"These?" He asked, and Keito nodded. The girl nodded in understanding, saying

"Tiger lillies are some of my favorites too. What will you be pairing them with?" Ketio turned, looking frantically around at the other flowers. He was supposed to have picked more than one?

"Um...roses." He said. Roses were for people that you loved, right? His mother had told him that once, when he was a child. She nodded.

"Do you have any specific color in mind?" She asked, and Keito shrugged, at a loss. She plucked one of the lilies from it's vase, carrying it over to the left wall, which—Keito realized belatedly—was covered in roses of practically every color.

"White? Or...um...blue?" He said, and she nodded, pulling both colors out and placing them all together, for Keito to see. He nodded, approving the grouping, and she smiled.

"Okay! We'll have these ready on Wednesday morning for you!" Keito nodded, thanking the girl, and with a wave Yabu whisked him back out of the shop. They didn't really talk on the way back home, and once they'd arrived they parted ways, Keito finding himself alone, with free time for the first time in days. But he felt rather melancholy, the trip to the flower store leaving him more upset than he'd been in weeks. The whole process had been depressing, and there was this looming dread, this sense of inevitability that hung over him and left a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He curled up on the couch, no specific train of thought running through his mind, and it felt like regressing. Like hopelessness, and emptiness. He couldn't get up the will to eat much that night at dinner.

The way he felt must have shown on his face, or in his actions, because after the meal was over he felt someone take his hand, and he looked down at their intertwined fingers in surprise, recognizing the hand before it's owner spoke.

"C'mon Keito." Hikaru said, not even giving him a chance to put on his shoes before dragging him out into the alley that ran in front of their home. By this point night had fallen, the stars covered by thick, saturated storm clouds, the only light that of the street lamp. Hikaru sat him down under that light, the older man sitting next to him, his knees drawn up, arms resting comfortably on them, and Keito just sat in silence for a few moments, waiting, until Hikaru said "What's wrong? Talk to me." He paused, and Keito tried to think of an acceptable way to phrase what he was feeling, or at least some excuse for his behavior that would be plausible. He didn't want Hikaru to be disappointed in him. He knew he'd been doing much better recently, and he didn't want to go back to the way he'd been before. But it took him too long to try and figure something out, and Hikaru asked "Did something happen?"

"No. Nothing really happened." He paused, folding his hands in his lap. "Yabu took me to pick out flowers for Shoon's grave visit." He admitted, pursing his lips anxiously and glancing sideways at Hikaru. The older man was staring at him, eyes concerned, a small, sad smile on his lips. Feeling self conscious, Keito looked down at his grimy bare feet, and a raindrop fell from the sky, landing on his knee, his jeans absorbing the water immediately. Hikaru just sat there by his side, leaning in a bit, and for a few moments they sat like that in silence. But then suddenly the older man pulled himself to his feet, extending his tattooed arm and offering Keito a hand, pulling him to his feet. Bewildered, Keito stood, and once they were facing each other, Hikaru said

"Hit me." Keito blinked at him in surprise. What? "You might feel better if you hit something." Hikaru explained. Keito didn't quite understand.

"You mean, like sparing?" He asked. Hikaru shook his head.

"No. When we spar you hold back. I don't want you to hold back. I want you to let everything you're feeling out. Don't worry about me; I can take it. Just hit me." It was sprinkling now, rain starting to fall, and they'd stepped to the edge of the beam of light given off by the street lamp, and although his face was cast partially in shadow, Hikaru's eyes were serious.

"I don't want to hurt you." Keito protested, and Hikaru snorted, pulling his white v-neck up over his shoulders and tossing it to the pavement.

"You won't. C'mon, Keito. Hit me." Tentatively Keito took a step forward, curling his right hand into a fist and knocking it into Hikaru's bare chest. Hikaru just stood there, looking at Keito's fist, before saying "Harder." Keito took a deep breath, pulling his arm back and hitting Hikaru again, with more force. But Hikaru didn't move, just saying "C'mon Keito. Hit me. Really hit me." He paused, wrapping one hand around Keito's fist. "Let go." He said quietly, voice just barely audible over the now steady pitter patter of the raindrops. Keito felt himself choking up, and he pulled his fist back again, this time slamming it roughly into Hikaru's chest. Hikaru stumbled back a few steps, and he took a big gulping inhale, Keito letting his hand uncurl, worried that he'd gone too far for a moment. But then Hikaru widened his stance, and motioned for Keito to come closer, and he said

"Again, come on." And so Keito did. He lunged at Hikaru, one fist connecting harshly with Hikaru's left shoulder, while the other the older man took to his gut. As he threw his fists, he felt all of his frustrations with himself, with the cruel world, rising up in him, all of his carefully tucked away helplessness and anger bubbling to the surface, and the more he let himself feel those things, the more he gave in, hitting harder and harder. Hikaru would nod on occasion, motion for Keito to keep going, and he took the punches well, recovering quickly and egging Keito on. Keito didn't know when he'd started crying, but tears were flowing freely down his cheeks, mingling with the rain as it fell. The clouds had opened up, rain falling thick and fast now, and they were both completely drenched, their hair plastered to their faces, their bodies slick with it, a chill in the air.

Keito hit Hikaru until he was exhausted. Until he was weak and drained and trembling, his emotions having run their course. It was then that he finally unfurled his fists, using one shaking hand to pull his sopping hair from his eyes, and he looked over Hikaru's body, an apology waiting in the wings on his lips, Keito hoping Hikaru wasn't hurt. Or at least not too badly. But he'd barely had time to catch his breath before Hikaru was _there,_ one hand cupping Keito's face as he leaned in, pressing their lips together. Hikaru kissed him with intensity, passion in the pressure of his lips as they slid against Keito's own. Hikaru wound one arm around Keito's hips, pulling him close, their chests pressed up against each other, the only thing separating them the wet fabric of Keito's clinging t-shirt. The kiss was strong, long, and it took Keito's breath away, Keito having to gulp for air once Hikaru pulled back. Keito was numb with shock, his brain still trying to catch up with what had just happened.

Hikaru meanwhile was just standing there, his chest heaving, and he pulled his hair away from his face as thunder cracked, the booming sound resounding across the sky. They stood there in silence for a few moments, facing each other in the pouring rain, before Hikaru let out a low curse, hanging his head and turning away, the older man trudging up the stairs and going back inside, leaving his shirt in a sopping wad in the alley. After a few moments Keito followed behind him, getting out of the rain, and once he was inside he found himself alone, a wet trail leading to Hikaru's living quarters. Not sure what to do, shivering and cold, Keito dragged himself up the stairs, throwing himself into a hot shower as he watched the bruises form on his knuckles, Hikaru's kiss playing on repeat in his mind, his lips still tingling with the ghost of it.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day everything was more or less normal. Keito didn't see Hikaru in the morning, and he was quickly snagged by Inoo, the older man dragging him out for practice with his knife. As they went outside, Keito's eyes caught on a white bundle of fabric lying on the pavement. Hikaru's shirt; he still hadn't retrieved it. Keito bent down, scooping it up, finding it still slightly damp from the night before. Inoo just cocked his head in confusion at him, Keito saying

"It's the Kumi-cho's. Let me throw it in the wash, it'll only take a moment." Inoo just nodded, Keito hastily turning back inside and starting a load of laundry, throwing the shirt in and starting their washing machine. While he worked with Inoo he tried to force all thoughts of Hikaru, and the kiss, out of his mind and focus on the task at hand. It worked for the most part, but Inoo still scolded him, Keito not quite as sharp as he usually was. Once they finished for the day, Keito threw the laundry into the dryer, that load running while he practiced fighting with Takaki and Yuto, the sparring session lasting until they were called in for dinner. Keito was anxious about dinner. He wanted to see Hikaru, wanted to talk to him. He hadn't seen the other man since they'd kissed, and he didn't know what to think about any of it.

Dinner was a tense experience. Hikaru was obviously on edge, the older man trying for the most part to pretend that Keito didn't exist. It wasn't blatant; he just didn't look at Keito, or make any effort to talk to him like he usually did. Hikaru giving him the cold shoulder was something Keito hadn't anticipated, and he decided that they needed to talk as soon as possible, not liking the way Hikaru refused to look at him. But after the meal was over, Hikaru was whisked away by Yabu, the lanky older man talking him back to his office, his face set in determination. Keito was going to have to wait. And he did wait. He waited for a good half hour before digging Hikaru's shirt out of the dryer and folding it neatly, knocking on the office door. There was a pause, before Yabu opened it, the taller man blinking down at Keito in surprise.

"I'm returning Hikaru's shirt." Ketio announced, feeling self conscious, and Yabu nodded, opening the door wider and motioning for Keito to come in. Hikaru wasn't in the room, but the door to his bedroom was open, and Keito peeked around the doorframe, finding Hikaru sitting on his bed. He looked surprised to see Keito, meeting Keito's eyes for a second as the exterior door swung shut, Yabu leaving the two of them alone. There was silence as Keito stood there in the doorway, before he murmured out a tentative "Hey."

"Hey." Hikaru said back, and he was obviously still tense, his shoulders stiff, as he looked at Keito. Keito hated how uncomfortable Hikaru seemed, hated the wariness in his eyes. Keito reached out, offering him the folded shirt

"You forgot this." Hikaru nodded, standing to take it and walking over to a chest of drawers to put it away. Keito decided to just bite the bullet, his heart racing as he asked "Can we talk about...last night?" Hikaru nodded, gesturing for Keito to come in. Keito looked around the room, feeling a bit like an intruder, but Hikaru took a seat on the foot of his bed, and Keito sat next to him, their shoulders brushing, the proximity reminding him of the kiss the night before, and he reached up, running one finger along his bottom lip, his skin tingling at the thought. It took him a few moments to get his question out.

"Why did you…” The words felt strange on his tongue, and he struggled to get them out. “...kiss me?" Hikaru sighed.

"It just felt like the right thing to do, at the time. It was a spur of the moment decision." He said, his voice holding in it a small regret. "I shouldn't have kissed you." Keito didn't agree or disagree with that second statement, and he sat quietly, eyes trailing over Hikaru's closest arm—the tattooed arm—as the events of the night before reeled in his mind. "Just—just forget about it." Hikaru said, Keito looking up at him in surprise. Hikaru had his brow furrowed, his eyes concerned.

"Just forget that it ever happened, okay?" Hikaru looked away, down at his knees. Not sure what else to do, Keito nodded. If Hikaru wanted to forget, then he could try. They fell into silence, and he let his eyes wander over the older man's body, looking over what he could see of Hikaru's skin, a new concern rising in his throat anxiously as his eyes caught on a slightly discolored patch that peeked out from the collar of his shirt.

"How are you? Are you hurt?" Hikaru blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting the question, before scoffing, shaking his head.

"No." Keito frowned, not sure he believed the older man.

"Really?" He paused, one hand on Hikaru's shoulder. "Can I see?" Hikaru nodded, standing and pulling off his shirt, holding it in a ball in one hand. Keito felt slightly sick, regret churning in his stomach as he took in Hikaru's bare chest. Hikaru was covered in bruises, his torso littered in fist shaped rings of deep purples and nasty greens, the areas slightly swollen, raised and painful looking. He cringed, turning his eyes away, and he murmured "I'm so sorry." Hikaru snorted, putting a gentle hand on top of Keito's head, running his fingers through Keito's hair.

"Don't be like that Keito. I'm fine. Really. This is nothing." Keito shook his head, feeling awful, ashamed, because _he_ did that. Hikaru sighed, slipping his shirt back on and sitting down next to Keito, his eyes on Keito's face.

"You fucking softie." Hikaru muttered, nudging Keito lightly with his shoulder. "Honestly, I was expecting you to beat me a lot worse than this." He admitted, Keito looking at him in surprise. Worse than that? "You didn't even go for my face or anything. I told you not to hold back, but you didn't hit me anywhere it would have really hurt."

"Of course not!" Keito exclaimed. "You're my—" He paused. What were they exactly? Friends? Sort of. They were very close, but it was a different relationship than the one Keito had with Yuto. They'd never acknowledged what it was they were, but even after Hikaru had taken the Kumi-cho position Keito felt that they had a special bond, the two of them. It wasn't something he could explain well, it was just a feeling. He stumbled through terms in his head, trying to find a good word to describe what he felt before saying "—Hikaru." Hikaru had a small, amused smile on his lips, and he raised his eyebrows, asking

"I'm your Hikaru?" Keito knew he was blushing.

"Um...you know what I mean." Keito muttered. Hikaru's smile grew bigger, and he didn't negate Keito's words, meeting Keito's eyes for a moment. They both paused, looking at each other, before Hikaru blinked, pursing his lips and looking down.

"Well, your Hikaru is strong enough to handle a few shitty little bruises." Hikaru announced,

"I know—" Keito was cut off, Hikaru's eyes suddenly serious as he said

"So don't get all anxious about it. It was supposed to be a stress relieving exercise." He paused. "Okay?" Keito clamped his mouth shut, nodding quietly. Hikaru smirked. "Good."

"Thank you." Keito said after a moment, and Hikaru snorted, getting to his feet.

"Quit being all polite and shit, Keito." Keito nodded, taking that as his cue and standing as well, going over to the door to leave. Hikaru called after him, looking slightly worried.

"So...are we good?" He paused. "We're going to pretend that it never happened." The whole thing came out sounding like a question. Keito nodded. Hikaru let out a heavy exhale, nodding back.

"Good night, Kumi-cho." Keito said quietly.

"G'night." Hikaru said back, waving as Keito turned his back and walked through Hikaru's office, slipping out the door into the living room, where Takaki and Inoo were up playing what looked like a very tedious game of war. Keito smiled at them, making his way up to bed, and as he went up the stairs he passed Yabu on his way down, the older man giving him a strange look as he went by. Keito nearly paused to ask him what his problem was, but instead he just waited at the top of the stairs, listening. Yabu had gone straight to Hikaru's office. No wonder he'd been looking at Keito so strangely. He probably knew about the events of the previous evening. Shaking that thought out of his mind, Keito put himself to bed. It took him a bit longer to go to sleep that night, his mind filled with the conversation he'd had with Hikaru, and the memory of the feeling of Hikaru's lips hot against his own.

Luckily in the days to come his interactions with Hikaru returned to normal, Keito finding it easy not to worry about the kiss or the conversation that had followed it. This was helped along by the fact that Shoon's anniversary came to pass only a few days later, Keito losing all thoughts about anything else when he woke up on the morning of the sixth, a sickening ache pitted in his stomach. He woke early, even earlier than Yuto, and he just layed there for a few minutes, his whole body feeling heavy, a shiver running down his spine as he thought about today. About what had happened on this day the previous year. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to get out of bed.

As quietly as he could he pulled his suit from the closet, staring at it for a few moments, tears already welling in his eyes, and he hooked it on one of the rungs of the ladder leading to his bunk bed, cursing lowly and trying to pull himself together. His voice woke Yuto, the lanky man jolting up suddenly in his bed, the action making Keito jump, his heart pounding. They both stared at each other for a moment, Yuto obviously having been startled, Keito's friend taking a few quick inhales, his eyes wide.

"Sorry." Keito murmured, his voice already rough with the oncoming tears, and Yuto immediately shook his head, standing and pulling Keito in for a hug.

"Hey. It's going to be okay." Yuto said gently, tucking Keito's head into the crook of his neck, holding him tightly. It was at these words that Keito finally let out a choked sob, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Yuto let him cry for a few minutes, just rubbing his back and holding him close.

"I don't know if I can do it." Keito admitted, the dread and the grief striking in him a sickening physical pain, sharp in his gut. He hadn't felt sadness like this in months. Yuto just hugged him tighter for a few moments before the younger man said

"Don't think too much. Don't think about the reason behind anything. Just do it, one step at a time." He paused. "First all you have to do is put on your suit. That's all. Don't worry about why. Just think about the actions. It makes it easier." Yuto's words were heavy with experience. Keito nodded, trying to pull himself together. Just put on his suit. He could do that. He took a few deep breaths, pulling back from Yuto, and it was then that he realized that Yuto was crying too, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Keito reached up, one thumb smudging the neat little trails the tears had left on his friend's face.

"I'm sorry." He murmured. "This is hard for you too." Yuto valiantly shook his head, wiping furiously at his eyes.

"I'm fine. I've got this." He declared, but the words came out mangled, grief spattered across his face, and Keito leaned back into him as Yuto broke down, his body shaking with his sobs. They cried for a while, there in their dark bedroom, until finally Yuto said "Suits. We need to put on our suits." Keito nodded, and Yuto pulled away, digging through the closet and retrieving his, Keito turning to where he'd hung his own suit and beginning to change. They dressed in silence, except for the occasional sniffle, the air heavy. Keito swallowed back a ball of snot, buttoning up his shirt and tying the tie around his throat. Once they were both dressed, Yuto clapped him on the shoulder, saying "Lets go eat. You need some food."

Breakfast was a somber affair, everyone slowly filtering down the stairs in their funeral suits, and they were for the most part silent, picking at their food before abandoning their bowls—all of them nearly full—and going out. Everyone's eyes reflected Keito's grief, and they packed together even more closely than usual when they left the house, hands touching shoulders or clasped between bodies for support. Yabu was sandwiched between Hikaru and Takaki, silent tears already streaming down the older man's face, while Daiki had Yamada wrapped up in his arms, Keito not sure how anyone was able to walk and be so intertwined with another person. Keito found himself in the middle of the pack, encased in his housemates, and he could feel support radiating from them as they walked to the designated meeting place, where a black limousine was waiting to take them to the cemetery.

Hikaru took the seat right behind the driver, and Keito was ushered in after him, finding a bouquet of flowers in his seat. It was the bouquet he'd picked out at the florist, with Yabu. It had turned out quite lovely, the deep blue roses contrasting with the larger, brighter tiger lilies, the whole thing surrounded by a ring of white roses, pulling it all together. He froze, looking at the flowers for a moment before Hikaru gestured to his seat, and Keito picked them up, sitting and placing the bouquet in his lap. Just looking at the flowers broke down the wall he'd been trying to keep his grief behind, and before they were all even in the car he'd started to cry. He felt Hikaru slip a hand into his, the older man giving it a tight squeeze, and Keito buried his face in Hikaru's shoulder, hiding it from the others.

Hikaru's breath was shaky, the older man obviously upset, but he just ran his thumb in smooth circles on the back of Keito's hand, letting Keito cry on him as they made their way to the cemetery. The limousine dropped them off at the entrance to the cemetery, and Keito found himself leading the way up the familiar path to the gravestone, now marked with two names, Shoon's inscribed alongside Taiyo's. Keito let his eyes trail over the characters of Shoon's name, talking big, heaving breaths in an attempt to keep his tears under control as he came to stand in front of the grave, his shoes twisting in the gravel as he kneeled down and placed the flowers on the stone, his chest tight with grief. It was with shaky hands that Keito got to work, trying to help the others clean the grave, and eventually Chinen put a hand on his shoulder, the younger man shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it Keito, we've got this." He murmured, Ryutaro nodding from his place at Chinen's side. Keito nodded, letting a choked sob fall from his lips, and he took a step back, standing away from the group as the tears hit him like a wave, suddenly unstoppable. It only took a few moments before Yuto was there, and Keito curled into his friend's body, drawn to the warm comfort Yuto's presence promised him. He stayed like that, tucked into Yuto's arms, until they left, Hikaru discretely taking his hand as he turned one last time to look at Shoon's grave, the Kumi-cho had tear tracks trailing down his cheeks, although when he'd cried Keito didn't know. Keito held onto Hikaru's hand tightly, not letting go until they got home. When he pulled back Hikaru glanced over at him, his gaze concerned.

"Thank you." Keito murmured, and Hikaru nodded, not saying anything as Keito walked away, up the stairs. Keito changed out of his suit quickly, rubbing at his red and watery eyes, and once in something more comfortable he slipped away, finding the closet—the one he always hid in when he wanted to be alone; when he wanted to cry—and curling up in it, wedging himself inside and curling up, his knees drawn to his chest. He was exhausted, drained, drowning in his grief, and he wasn't sure when or how, but he eventually fell asleep. He slept there in the closet for hours, only waking when he heard frantic voices outside the door.

It was wrenched open, Hikaru standing there, his eyes blown wide, frantic, and the older man reached in, grabbing Keito and yanking him forward, pulling him roughly into his arms. Keito was confused and shocked by the rough handling, and it took him a moment to realize that Hikaru was shaking, his whole body trembling against Keito's own, his arms gripping Keito almost painfully tight. Somewhere behind them Takaki yelled

"He's here! We've got him!" Hikaru let out a choked whine, his face buried into Keito's shoulder, and it was then that Keito realized that Hikaru was crying. He leaned into the older man, wrapping his arms around Hikaru's shoulders, hugging him back. What had happened to make Hikaru react this way?

"We couldn't find you." Hikaru muttered after a few moments. "You disappeared, and we all thought—" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "—I was so afraid you'd—" He took another breath, muttering harshly "Fuck." Keito held Hikaru tighter, understanding washing over him, a shiver running down his spine. They'd thought he had killed himself.

"I'm right here." He whispered, feeling extremely apologetic. He'd scared them, made them all worry, made them go through even more strife, and today of all days too. It had been selfish of him not to let them know he was okay. "I'm not going anywhere." He ran a hand through Hikaru's hair, resting one cheek on the side of Hikaru's head, breathing in his comforting scent. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"You fucking useless piece of shit." Hikaru muttered. "You absolute bastard." His words were rough with tears, and despite the anger laced into his tone he didn't make any move to pull away, continuing to cling to Keito, his fingers gripping tightly into the back of Keito's shirt. Keito hated seeing Hikaru so distraught, and on instinct he buried his nose in Hikaru's hair, murmuring apologies and placing a gentle kiss there. A few meters away over half of their housemates had joined Takaki on the stairs, relief on their faces. But the way some of them were looking at them, eyes wide, slightly pained expressions on thier faces, made Keito feel self conscious, and after a moment Takaki turned away, ushering them all down the stairs and leaving Keito and Hikaru alone.

After a minute Hikaru calmed down enough to pull away, and he glared at Keito with red, watery eyes, whacking him in the chest. "You're going to make me crazy." He said, and Keito just bowed his head, apologetic. There was a moment of silence before Hikaru declared "We already ate dinner without you." He paused, his cheeks pink. "Go eat." Keito nodded obediently, biting at his bottom lip and parting from Hikaru, making his way down the stairs.


	11. Chapter 11

In the days to come things more or less returned to normal. Keito spent most of his time sparring, and he was improving tremendously, finally at a level that was more acceptable. He'd gained back nearly all of his muscle, to his great pride, and now his sparring matches were less him getting beaten up and more of an equal match. The first time he managed to knock Takaki down it had stunned the older man into silence, the realization sweeping over both of them that _he was stronger,_ and they both broke into grins, Keito leaning down and helping his housemate back to his feet. He was working hard, and feeling the best he had in a year, both physically and emotionally. He was smiling more, laughing more, and happiness came much more easily, and he felt like perhaps now he was finally no longer a burden on his housemates.

The only truly new thing wasn't something physically tangible. It was something Keito tried to ignore. Something he'd promised to forget. It was just a little thing, and it only really bothered him at night, when he was lying in his bunk in the dark, Yuto fast asleep. It was the memory of Hikaru's kiss in the rain. He tried valiantly to forget, as Hikaru had asked him to, yet the memory, the feeling, persisted. Often at night when he closed his eyes he could feel Hikaru's lips on his, the older man's hand—warm even in the rain—cupping his face. The scene would play in his mind, his heart speeding up as he relived the shock he'd felt when Hikaru had pulled him close, their chests pressed against each other.

Keito didn't really understand why he kept thinking about it, he reasoned that it was simply a very memorable experience for him. It was the first and only kiss he'd had since Shoon's death, and if nothing else, the one kiss he’d had in a year wasn’t something that was easy to. But he felt guilty sometimes, when Hikaru would lock eyes with him at dinner, or sling an arm around his shoulders as they chatted on the couch, and Keito would remember the kiss. He'd promised Hikaru that he would forget, yet he hadn't. But he didn't mention it to Hikaru, acting as if he'd long since forgotten their lip-lock in the rain, not wanting to cause the older man any worry. He was sick of troubling the people he cared about. Besides, the memory would fade with time. He'd forget soon enough. He just had to try harder.

Things continued in this manner for a couple of weeks, and as they got into September Keito found himself actually thinking about the kiss less, his thoughts focused more so on defeating Ryutaro in a sparring competition. He and the younger boy were working hard every day, Ryutaro often egging him on with sharp words and teasing, and Keito had made it his personal goal to wipe that smug smirk off of his housemate's face. Due to his determination he and Ryutaro would often end up practicing for longer than they'd originally planned. But he was getting closer, and he found himself smiling one evening when he and Ryu went back inside, pleased with the progress he'd made that day.

All thoughts of his accomplishments for the day fled his mind however, when they entered the living room to see Chinen and Takaki curled up together on the couch. Chinen was in Takaki's lap, and they were both smiling, Takaki's shoulders shaking in silent laughter as he tucked a stray piece of Chinen's hair behind one of the younger man's ears, the other hand resting comfortably on Chinen's hip. It was a very intimate image, and Keito froze, glancing over at Ryutaro, almost afraid to look at his housemate's face, dreading his reaction. He didn't have to wait long. In a split second Ryutaro was yelling, lunging at Takaki and landing a punch on the older man's jaw before Takaki had a chance to react.

Takaki jumped to his feet, and Chinen in turn threw himself between the two much larger men, trying to keep them apart. It all happened in an instant, Keito watching stunned for a few moments as his housemates grappled, trying to get at each other, before Chinen glanced over at him, snapping out

"What the fuck are you doing?! Help me!" Keito nodded, crossing the room and grabbing at Ryutaro who was closest, holding him by the arms, having to use all of his strength as he said

"Calm down! Ryu!" Ryutaro cursed at him, kicking at Keito's legs, but Keito held him, squeezing tightly. Chinen meanwhile—unable to pin Takaki the way Keito had Ryu—had jumped, wrapping his arms around Takaki's neck and hanging deadweight from it, forcing the older man off balance, making him stumble. There was lots of cursing, Takaki eventually shaking Chinen off and storming up the stairs. It was then that Keito loosened his grip on Ryutaro, the younger boy yanking away from him and sending Chinen a dirty look before storming back outside. Keito's heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline still rushing through his veins, and he just stood there for a few moments, eyes wide. Chinen let out a string of curses, his hands balled into fists, before throwing himself onto the couch.

"Fucking idiots." Chinen said harshly, obviously upset and angry. Keito—not sure what to do in this situation—took a seat next to Chinen on the couch. "I don't understand why Ryu-chan has been so..." He gestured vaguely to the door his boyfriend had just exited out of. "Everything is usually fine, but then he'll go and pull some shit like that, and it makes me just want to—" Chinen frowned, huffing and cutting himself off.

"He doesn't like seeing someone he loves in an intimate situation with someone else." Keito reasoned quietly, not sure if his opinion was actually wanted, or if Chinen just needed to rant. Chinen pursed his lips.

"It's not like I'm all over everyone or anything. Yuya doesn't really help though. Ryu keeps talking about how he's in love with me." There was a silence, Keito saying tentatively

"Chinen...surely you've noticed...Takaki _is_ in love with you." Chinen fell silent for a moment, before saying defiantly.

"That doesn't mean he and I are suddenly going to go at it or something. Besides—" He turned on Keito, his gaze shrewd. "—who are _you_ to get onto me about noticing if people are in love with...other people!" Keito blinked in surprise at the sudden attack, but before he could ask what the hell _that_ was supposed to mean, Ryutaro charged back through the door, skidding to a stop, his chest heaving, eyes wild. Chinen got to his feet, turning and pointing at his boyfriend, harsh words poised on his lips, but Ryutaro just grabbed Chinen by the hand, pulling him close and yelling

"ATTACK!" He glanced back over his shoulder, already pulling his knife out from his back pocket, and Keito was confused for a split second before a group of men burst through the open front door, lunging at them. There were sounds of footsteps heavy on the stairs as Keito felt his heart leap into his throat, enemies flooding into their living room. Adrenaline coursed through his system as one of the attackers ran right at him, a yell falling from the man's lips. Keito braced himself for impact, one hand digging into his pocket, whipping out his knife and flicking it open. His attacker's fist hit him hard in the shoulder, and he turned, kicking out and tangling the man's legs in his own, making him stumble. It gave him enough time to punch the man hard in the ribs, sending him crashing to the floor. Keito kicked him a few times, just to make sure he was down, before he felt strong arms grip him from behind, and he jammed into this new opponent's stomach with his elbow, the hand gripping the knife flipping it around quickly and reaching back. Keito felt the blade catch on his attacker, the arms around him disappearing at once, and he whipped around to face the guy.

It was at that moment however, that Chinen decided to intervene, the smaller man jumping up and latching onto the Wakaba member's throat, his arms constricting around his neck. Keito gave his housemate a quick nod of thanks, glancing around the room. The rest of their companions had joined in the fighting at this point, Keito catching sight of Takaki and Yabu over by the stairs, back to back, and Yamada only a little ways away, drawing his sword. Keito heard a harsh string of curses from his left, and he turned to see Yuto brawling with Sato Takeru, the Wakaba member's eyes wide, fixed on Keito as he ducked out of reach of Yuto's fist. Keito moved to join his friend, lunging out at their opponent. Yuto flashed him a quick smile, ducking out of the way of Takeru's blade, and while Yuto had him distracted Keito threw his arms around their enemy's chest, binding him.

"I fucking killed you!" Takeru exclaimed, glaring fiercely at Keito, and Keito came to realize that it must have been this man that had slit his throat in their last battle. He squeezed tighter, feeling the ribs under his arms strain, and Yuto took the opportunity to sock their enemy in the face, Keito holding him still as Yuto's fists hit Takeru's body repeatedly, blood catching on Keito's face from what had to be a broken nose and a split lip. Finally, Takeru went limp, and Keito released his grip, letting him crumple to the floor. Yuto snatched the small sword Takeru had dropped from the ground, tossing it to Keito.

"A prize!" He exclaimed, Keito just about to ask _what for_ just as there was the sharp pain of a fist connecting with his ribs, and in reaction Keito took the sheathed blade, ramming it like a bat into his new opponent. It sent the guy stumbling, and Keito kicked out, catching him in the chin, sending him ramming into Daiki. Daiki had the guy knocked out in a matter of seconds, his eyes wild, blood on his knuckles and down his front. Keito didn't get any acknowledgment from Daiki, and he didn't expect any, instead shoving Takeru's blade into his waistband and grabbing the nearest enemy, kneeing him in the back. He felt the man’s bones jam harshly into his own, and he grabbed the man’s head in his hands, yanking him even more off balance before shoving him to the ground. When he glanced back up he realized that despite the fight having been started by the Wakaba, the number of enemies had already shrunk exponentially since they’d burst through the door. It probably wouldn’t be long before—

His train of thought was completely overwhelmed by a fist hitting him in the throat. Suddenly he was stumbling back, gasping for breath, his eyes blurry with instantaneous tears. As he fought to regain himself there was another punch, this one in his gut, doubling him over. He slashed out with his knife, keeping his attacker at bay as he pulled himself together, and he found himself staring down Miura Shohei. He barely had time to register that before the Wakaba member fell to his knees, a kick to the back of the head sending him crumpling to the carpet. Keito blinked up in surprise, and Hikaru reached out, yanking him to his feet. Keito felt a surprisingly intense relief wash over him at the sight of his leader, but Hikaru didn’t seem to share the sentiment.

"What the fuck are you doing, Keito?! Losing concentration in battle like that!" Hikaru said harshly. His whole body was slick with sweat, and his left forearm was bathed in blood, trails running down his skin, and even as he spoke it dripped onto the carpet. But he didn't appear to even notice his injury, so it couldn’t have been that serious. "Pull yourself together!" Hikaru growled, and Keito nodded, apologizing quickly. His eyes caught on a figure over Hikaru's shoulder, Yanagishita Tomo disengaging from his fight with Takaki and lunging as if to grab Hikaru, while the Kumi-cho was unsuspecting. Keito pushed the older man out of the way, slamming a fist into their attacker's mouth, feeling the teeth ramming into his bones. They both pulled away bloody, Tomo's lips busted, his gums already leaking blood.

Hikaru cursed, taken completely by surprise, but Keito just rammed his bloody fist into Tomo's stomach, doubling him over. It was then that Hikaru seemed to come to himself, and he kicked out, knocking Tomo off of his feet, and slamming his heel down on Tomo's head. As he did this Keito heard a yell from the front door, and he glanced up to see Miura Haruma standing there, Sato Takeru's limp form in his arms.

"Retreat!" The Wakaba member shouted, before disappearing out into the falling night. This declaration of defeat didn’t deter Hikaru from kicking their enemy a few more times. Despite that, in moments the rest of the intruders had followed after Haruma, one of them helping Tomo up off of the floor and out the door. Keito and his housemates were bathed in a still, almost numb silence in their absence, and Keito became aware of his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline fading away. He glanced around the room at his companions, until Hikaru's voice broke the silence.

"Injury status." It was quickly determined that most of them were pretty much okay. Ryutaro had a swollen jaw, and some of his fingers were developing terrible bruises and swelling; Yabu's assessment was that they were probably broken. Inoo had a gash on his forehead, and his whole face was practically washed in a mask of his own blood, but he was standing, and Yamada and Daiki rushed to take care of him. Takaki had a noticeable limp, one of his ankles swollen, teeth marks visible on it. When he was asked what had happened, he just replied

"That fucking Chiba Yudai." Chinen, Yabu, and Yuto seemed to be pretty much fine. Yuto was sporting a fat lip, and there was some bruising on everyone, but all of the injuries were pretty mild. Keito could feel the bruises forming on his ribs, and his knuckles throbbed, bloody and aching. They worked to patch each other up, but while everyone else was being tended too, Hikaru walked himself over to the sink, and was rinsing the blood off of his cut forearm on his own. Keito looked around for some way to be useful, but he didn't really see one. Everyone seemed pretty well taken care off. Hikaru's arm would probably need stitches, but he'd never done stitches before, so Takaki or Yuto or someone would probably—

"Keito, come here." Hikaru called, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Keito scurried over, his leader grabbing a sewing kit from their first aid box, and sliding it across the table's surface toward him. "I can't do this with one hand. You do it."


	12. Chapter 12

Keito stared at Hikaru in surprise at the demand. He couldn't be serious.

"I'm sure Yuto or Takaki, or maybe Chinen—"

"I want you." Hikaru cut him off, looking up at him with an expression that left little room for argument. Still, Keito wanted to make sure Hikaru understood what he was getting himself into, a ball of nervousness in his stomach as he sat down in the chair next to the older man, saying

"I've never done stitches before."

"And you've been in the kumi for how long? It's about time you learned." Hikaru asserted, pushing his lacerated arm closer to Keito. Oh god. Okay. Keito steeled himself, leaning in and cleaning the wound thoroughly, Hikaru just letting him do it, watching calmly. Once Keito was sure it was clean, Hikaru took the edges of the open gash, pinching them shut. "You're going to line it up like this, so that you get the right parts touching." He said, Keito feeling the ball of nerves rolling around in his stomach take a leap. "Try it." Hikaru gestured to his wound, releasing his grip on his own arm. Keito nodded, trying to keep his hands steady, hyper aware of the anxious tremor in his fingers as he attempted to mimic what Hikaru had shown him. "Good."

"Doesn't that hurt?" Keito couldn't help but ask, remembering vividly the terrible, hot stinging he felt when he was stitched up. Hikaru just shrugged, dismissing the question.

"C'mon, now thread the needle." Hikaru said, and Keito fumbled with the sewing kit, staring for a moment at all of the different ones. Which was he supposed to use? Hikaru seemed to understand his hesitation. "The smallest one." The older man said, and Keito nodded, picking it out and—after a couple of fruitless attempts—threading the eye, tying the ends of the thread together, as a similar knot manifested in his stomach...because now he had to actually do the stitching part. "Cauterize it, and then we'll get started." Hikaru said, acting as if this was just another sparring practice, his laid back demeanor a small comfort. Keito did as he was told, listening as—after the needle had been sterilized—Hikaru explained what exactly Keito would need to do.

"Okay?" Hikaru asked, once he'd finished, making sure Keito understood. In theory, it was simple. Just don't stitch too deep, or too shallow, and line the flesh up evenly so that the right parts would heal back together. But Keito was immensely anxious about the whole procedure. He knew that even if he did it perfectly the first try it would hurt. Worse, he probably wasn't going to get it right the first time, and he would drag the process out, causing the older man even more pain than was necessary. He didn't want to hurt Hikaru. He found himself staring at the wound, knowing that all that he could do now was _start,_ and not finding it in himself to do so.

"Hey." Hikaru drew Keito's attention from his arm to his face. "What is it?"

"I don't want to hurt you." Keito murmured, feeling embarrassed by his weakness. Everyone else could do this. He was the weak link. Again. He looked down at his slightly trembling hands, hiding his face. But Hikaru didn't give him a hard time, or tell him to grow up. He scooted his chair forward, so that they were closer together, and said

"You're not going to hurt me. You're going to fix me." Hikaru extended his arm even more toward Keito. "I won't even flinch. It'll be fine. You can do this, Keito." He paused, giving Keito a serious look. "Fix me." Keito took a deep breath, nodding, his brow furrowing in concentration as he finally leaned in, pinching Hikaru's flesh together as gently as he could, lining it up before pushing the needle through Hikaru's skin. Keito himself flinched, hissing as if he was in pain, but Hikaru didn't react at all, just watching silently as the needle slipped through his skin, the thread dragging after it until the wall of flesh hit the knot, and drew taught. Keito tied the other end and trimmed the thread, the both of them inspecting his work.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Hikaru said, Keito pursing his lips. "Now for the rest of me." Keito nodded, still on edge, but he tied the loose ends on the thread and took a deep breath, sticking Hikaru with the needle once more. He tried to be as careful as possible, taking his time and going slowly, so that he'd only have to do each stitch once. As a result it took him an extremely long time to complete Hikaru's stitches. As he worked everyone else managed to tend to their wounds, clean up, and go to bed. By the time he'd finished his ninth and final stitch he and Hikaru were all alone in the kitchen.

Keito was rather anxious throughout the whole process, even after he'd finished his last stitch, snipping the thread and falling back into his chair. Hikaru drew his arm back toward his own body, inspecting Keito's handiwork silently, nodding after a moment.

"Is it really okay?" He asked, not confident in his handiwork. Although he'd given it his best shot, it was much more uneven than the stitches he'd seen his housemates do.

"This is a good first attempt, Keito." Hikaru assured him. "I'll heal up fine, you'll see." Keito felt the tension drain from his body at Hikaru's approval, his shoulders slumping, the release almost tiring him. They stood, cleaning up in silence, and it was only once they'd finished, Keito about to bid his leader good night, that Hikaru said quietly "Thanks for everything today." Keito blinked in confusion at Hikaru, before the older man continued. "I would probably be hurt a lot worse if it weren't for you." Hikaru was looking at him warmly, a small smile on his lips. Keito felt embarrassed under that gaze, nodding meekly and turning away, making his way up the stairs, pulling the sword from his waistband and placing it on top of his dresser before climbing into bed. His movements woke Yuto, his friend asking

"Are you just now getting in, Keito?"

"Yeah."

"Have you been with the Kumi-cho this whole time?" Yuto asked, surprised. Keito nodded into the darkness, before remembering that Yuto couldn't see him.

"Yeah."

"Did...anything happen?" Yuto's tone made the question sound much less innocent than it was, Keito staring at the patch of darkness that he could sense that his friend occupied in mild confusion at his strange behavior.

"Um....no? What—" Yuto huffed loudly in the darkness, cutting him off, and Keito heard the shuffling sounds of him rolling over in his bed.

"Is there something I was supposed to do?" Keito asked, bewildered.

"No." Yuto sighed, his voice dreary with sleep. "Don't worry about it Keito."

"Okay...good night, Yuto."

"'Night." Yuto mumbled, the two of them both asleep within moments, drained from the events of the day.

The next few days were spent quietly. While no one had been hurt seriously, they were all sore, black and blue, and as a result they all spent most of their time lounging around in the living room playing what Yamada referred to as "a hell of a lot of" poker. Usually on days like these a wide range of games were played, but Daiki, Yamada and Ryutaro had played a very fierce game of poker early in the morning on the first day of their recuperation, which had evolved into an elaborate tournament, with high stakes. Everyone was involved, the competition fierce, the smack talk even more so. Keito was the only one that didn't play, watching his housemates go up against each other, enjoying the banter and making note of the strategies employed throughout the course of the games.

His lack of participation wasn't really discussed at first, but about mid-day on the Tuesday following the raid Inoo—high off of an impressive victory—turned to Keito saying

"You should play." Keito just smiled at his housemate, Inoo's eyes bright, his gloating tone offsetting the thick white bandage wrapped around his head.

"I'll pass. Thanks though."

"C'mon, you little shit! Play!" Daiki teased. Yabu, rolled his eyes, pulling the deck of cards closer to him, and fixing the alignment of the stack as he talked.

"He's broke! The Kumi-cho and Yuto have been covering his monthly share for a couple of months now." There was a silence, Yabu turning his attention to Keito, his expression one of regret, as if he'd just realized that this information might not have been something Keito would want the rest of their housemates to be aware of. When he spoke again, his tone was apologetic. "I'm not trying to be malicious; you've had other things to worry about. You've been doing so well, we didn't want to put anything else on your plate, so once you ran dry we just...didn't tell you."

Keito was stunned. He was mortified. He had completely forgotten about the monthly payments he was supposed to have been making, the payments they all made to cover things like food. He hadn't made one since Shoon had died. In over a _year._ How much money had he had before Shoon's death? I couldn't have been much—even after waving some of the fines, the hospital bills Shoon had left in his death had been expensive. Who knew how long Hikaru and Yuto had been covering for him? Yuto met his eyes across the table, looking guilty, and Keito, feeling just as guilty, gestured toward Hikaru's door. He knew their leader was in there, and Keito wanted to talk to Hikaru and Yuto alone.

Yuto stood, following Keito, already beginning to murmur his apologies, his explanations for his actions. Keito knocked on Hikaru's office door, waiting for the call of their leader's voice.

"Come in!" Hikaru's tone was light, but when he saw the looks on their faces a small frown formed on his lips. "What is it?" He asked.

"He found out about the money." Yuto said quietly, as Keito fell to his knees in front of them, bowing, his forehead almost to the carpet.

"Keito what—"

"I'm sorry!" He could feel the guilt and embarrassment churning in his stomach, and he knew his face was red. "I've put the two of you in a difficult situation, and have taken your sympathy for far too long. I should not have depended on you financially."

"But Keito, you didn't know, you can't blame yourself for—"

"Regardless of my own awareness, I still should not have put the two of you in a situation in which you felt obligated to pay in my stead." Keito pushed, not moving from his place on the floor.

"Keito, stand up. This is unnecessary; you would have done the same for anyone here. Don't worry about the money." Despite Hikaru's words, Keito shook his head.

"I'll repay you both in full. You should not have to cover for me. I'll get a job, and pay for myself from here on out." Keito declared. He heard a sigh, and he looked up to see Hikaru crossing his arms.

"You're being ridiculously obstinate about this, Keito." Keito didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything, just keeping his head bowed. "C'mon, stand up." Hikaru said, crouching down and putting one hand on Keito's shoulder, giving him a stern look. Still embarrassed, Keito stood, not looking at his housemates, his eyes on the carpet.

"If you're going to be able to pay at the end of the month, you're going to need a job that pays good and pays fast. What are you going to do?" Yuto asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Keito's embarrassment deepened. He had no idea _how_ he was going to get the money. His previous jobs had been playing his guitar at local establishments as a regular performer; they weren't generous wages, even if he could get those jobs back. He hadn't picked up his guitar in over a year, and his confidence in his whatever was left of his skills wasn't strong.

"I'm not sure, but—"

"Ah!" Yuto's eyes were wide with revelation, and he said excitedly "Loaning!"

"He has no money to loan." Hikaru said, deadpan, looking at Yuto as if he was an idiot.

"Okay, but he could help Yabu or someone in collecting on loans." Yuto was smiling. "C'mon Kumi-cho. Who do you think would be more intimidating in all honesty; Yabu-kun, or Keito? I mean, look at him. He's fucking jacked. He'd be much more threatening than Yabu." Hikaru gave Keito's body an appreciative up and down.

"It could work." He looked skeptically over at Keito. "If you think you'd be okay with it."

"Anything." Keito declared, serious. He was going to erase his debt.

"Okay. I'll see if anyone is up for some extra muscle." Hikaru said, a small smile on his lips.

"Thank you." Keito fell into another bow, and Hikaru ruffled his hair, scoffing.

"It kinda freaks me out when you get all formal on me, Keito." The Kumi-cho admitted. Yuto nodded in agreement next to him.

"Where the hell'd you learn to apologize like that?" Keito's roommate asked.

"My dad." Keito admitted. There were nods, understanding in his housemates’ eyes, and the topic was closed.


	13. Chapter 13

It was that evening, after dinner, that Inoo approached Keito, the older man looking like an escaped hospital patient, still black and blue and bandaged, but in a flashy suit, like something Takaki would wear for a night on the town.

“So, I heard you’re looking to scare people for money.” Inoo said. It took Keito a moment to respond.

“Wha—oh. Um...yeah.”

“Alright! Go make yourself as intimidating as possible. I have someone I need to drop in on, and I don’t look that intimidating today.” Inoo said, indicating his bandaged head.

“You’re never intimidating!” Ryutaro announced, smirking. “You usually have Dai-chan do the intimidating part for you.” Inoo leaned forward, whacking the younger boy on the back of the head, effectively shutting him up, but not actually refuting anything Ryu had said.

“Don’t take too long Keito, or this one might be dead when you get back.” Inoo remarked, the statement making Ryutaro burst into laughter. Keito didn’t comment, getting to his feet and trekking up the stairs, quickly changing into a pair of jeans, staring at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, as he contemplated what shirt was the most appropriate for something like this. He had an anxious buzzing in his stomach, and he tried to fight it down, squish it into a little ball. He just ended up throwing on a white tank top and returning back down to greet Inoo. His appearance was met with a quick nod of approval, and with that the two of them went out into the night.

Keito immediately regretted not putting on a shirt of substance. The September wind was chilling, the heat daylight brought with it absent, replaced by the cool night air. He felt goosebumps rise on his arms, and he fought the want to return back home to retrieve a jacket. Inoo, in his suit, didn’t seem to notice the wind, the older man talking as he led them north, through the streets.

“So I lent these guys three-million yen about a month ago. The deal was that they pay me back two-hundred thousand every week for twenty weeks, and I’d call us even.” Keito did the math quickly in his head. Inoo would have gained an extra hundred thousand by the end of the ordeal. Keito looked over at his housemate in surprise. “Now, my thought process is that after this time I’ll just send you to collect the money each week, and I’ll give you a cut of the earnings. I’m thinking about eighty thousand. How’s that sound?” Keito nodded. That sounded pretty great. He could definitely manage to pay his share at the end of the month making eighty-thousand a week. Hell, he could do it in a week. And he could start paying back Yuto and Hikaru. There was only one thing.

“Inoo...what do I have to do exactly?” Inoo laughed at Keito’s confused face, Keito feeling a violent shiver run down his shoulders as a particularly fierce gust of wind swept over them.

“You’re literally the hired muscle in this situation, so you’re not going to have to talk much. Just frown, show off your scars and flex your muscles or something. I might have you grab him by the collar of their shirt, for fun. It’s a dominance game. Just make them afraid, and ask for the money. If they don’t have it, smack them around a little. Even you can do that, right?” His tone was light and teasing, but Keito was anxious about the whole thing. He wanted to do well. They walked through the darkness of night, wandering through a small neighborhood, one just at the edge of their old border, until Inoo stopped in front of an apartment building, pointing up.

“It’s that one. The second one from the left.” He indicated a window, and Keito nodded in understanding, following his housemate up the stairs, standing behind him when Inoo stopped in front of a door, adjusting his bandage and squaring his shoulders before yelling “Open up! Hey!” Keito blinked in surprise at the malice in Inoo’s tone, and he tried to follow his lead, squaring his shoulders and bracing himself for...well...something. A balding man that looked to be in his mid-fifties pulled the door open, his eyes wide. Inoo sneered. “Don’t look so surprised. You knew I was coming.” He said coolly, stepping over the threshold and into the apartment, Keito following close behind. The man was rather short, and he looked up at Keito, his face going pale as Keito met his gaze. Keito’s heart was pounding in his chest, but he arranged his expression in a calm mask, glaring down at the man.

Inoo didn’t bother taking off his shoes, striding right in, scrunching his nose up disdainfully at the harsh smell of cigarettes that saturated the air. Not sure what to do, Keito just followed behind his bandaged housemate.

“I’ve brought another friend with me today.” Inoo said, swinging an arm across Keito’s shoulders. “He’s going to be the one checking up on you from now on, so you’d better treat him well. He doesn’t take kindly to rudeness.” Keito curled his hand into a fist, the man’s eyes catching on it for a moment. “Now that the pleasantries have been exchanged, to business.” Inoo said, almost playfully, and he tilted his head in the man’s direction, his eyes meeting Keito’s. There was an unspoken understanding in that gaze, and Keito pursed his lips, trying not to show weakness as he turned to the man, trying to imitate the raw animalistic power he’d seen Daiki showcase when faced with something he was supposed to hit.

He snatched the man up by the collar of his shirt, the way Inoo had mentioned on the walk to the apartment, lifting him up so that he was hovering off the floor. The man was shaking, and he let out a little squeak. He smelled of cigarettes, and stale sweat, and Keito screwed his face up in disgust at the assault on his senses.

“Do you have what we came for?” Inoo asked from Keito’s side. The man’s gaze flicked back and forth between their faces, as if not sure who he was supposed to be looking at. But he nodded, muttering, his voice slightly shrill

“Yes. Yes. Please. Please don’t—please put me down. I—” Inoo nodded, Keito releasing the man, letting him fall to the floor. Though he was barely off the floor, he didn’t keep his balance when his feet hit solid ground, and he fell back on his ass. He sat there quivering for a moment, and Keito nearly jumped out of shock when next to him Inoo snapped out

“What the fuck are you doing?! Don’t waste our time.”

“Yes. Sorry! Sorry I—” The man scrambled to his feet, disappearing through an open doorway. Inoo radiated a haughty impatience, and Keito was shocked by the act his housemate was owning so convincingly. He’d never seen Inoo like this, he hadn’t known Inoo was capable of acting this way. It was slightly disconcerting. He was drawn out of his train of thought when the man returned, an envelope in his hands. He offered it out to Inoo. “It’s all there, I swear.” The man said, Inoo taking the envelope and opening it up, making a show of counting the bills inside before turning on his heel.

“My friend will be back next week at this time. I expect you to treat him well.” Inoo called, pulling open the door. Keito hurried to catch up with his housemate. “Oh, and crack open a window. Your place smells even worse than you do.” With those parting words Inoo left, Keito following behind him like a dog. As soon as they’d left the building, Inoo broke out into a smile, pulling the envelope open and shuffling through the money. He handed a wad of bills to Keito. “You were great in there Keito. I don’t think he’s going to give you any trouble.” Keito took the money tentatively, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Thank you.” The whole experience had been strange, but—he thought that night, as he tucked eighty thousand yen into his wallet—it was something he could work to get used to. And so, the following week he returned to the man's apartment. He didn't even need to say anything or get rough with the guy, much to his utmost relief. As soon as the man saw Keito at his door he rushed off, returning with an envelope, his face ashen, his hands trembling. Keito had to force himself to keep from saying thank you as the man presented him with the money, counting to make sure it was all there, before whirling out into the night. When he presented the envelope to Inoo, Keito's housemate gave him a warm smile, pulling out Keito's share and handing it to him.

"Good work." Inoo said cheerily, turning back to where he'd been playing mahjong with Takaki, Daiki, and Yabu. Keito tripped over a quick thanks, before returning to his room, pulling the money he'd already earned from his wallet, setting aside the cash he'd need to pay Yabu the following morning, before taking the rest and splitting it evenly in half. One half would go to Yuto, the other to Hikaru. Yuto himself was currently out on a date. He'd been swindling some college girl, and he probably would be out for a while. Keito would give him his share later. Hikaru meanwhile, was probably in his office. Keito put it into an envelope, writing the amount on the front and taking it downstairs, passing by the mahjong game and knocking on Hikaru's office door.

"C'mon in." Hikaru's voice called, and Keito pulled the door open to find Hikaru at his desk, a medical kit resting on its surface, a pair of tiny scissors in one hand, his stitched arm lying on a towel. When he saw Keito he smiled, gesturing for him to come closer with the scissors. "Keito! Just the person I wanted to see." He showed Keito his stitches. "It's time to take them out. D'you want to do it? Here." He handed Keito the scissors, and before he'd really had time to think about it, Keito took them, setting the money on a chair and turning his attention to Hikaru's outstretched arm. Hikaru watched quietly as Keito snipped the first stitch, tugging the thread gently from his leader's skin and laying it out on the towel. He stayed still, and they fell into silence as Keito worked, removing the threads one by one until Hikaru's arm was thread-free. Hikaru examined the area, a small smile on his lips.

"Look at it Keito, it's healed." Keito examined the skin, nodding. It was pretty much as good as new. Hikaru brought his arm back in close to him, running his fingers over the area gently. "And you were afraid you'd fuck up." Hikaru said with a smirk. Keito could feel himself blushing at the implied praise. They packed up the medical kit, clearing Hikaru's desk, and it wasn't until they'd finished that Hikaru asked "Oh, did you have some reason for your visit Keito?" Keito nodded, taking the envelope from where he'd abandoned it on an empty chair seat and offering it to his leader. Hikaru looked at the envelope in surprise.

"I know it's not much, but I want to start paying you back as soon as possible. I'll get the rest to you as soon as I can, I promi—" Hikaru held up a hand, gesturing for him to stop. Keito fell silent, but to his relief, Hikaru took the money.

"It's no rush Keito." Hikaru told him, and Keito nodded. "You know I don't like it when you're all stiff with me." Hikaru said. Keito nodded again. There was a small silence, Keito wondering if he should go, but then Hikaru leaned back in his chair, and said "Talk to me for a little while. I've missed you." Keito felt a warm happiness blooming in his chest at Hikaru's words, and he took a seat, nodding. "Tell me about your new job. How is it?" Hikaru continued, leaning in, his eyes warm with affection. And so he did, Keito and Hikaru talking late into the night, Hikaru eventually falling asleep right there at his desk, one cheek smushed into his hand, his elbow propping his head up on his desk's surface.

Keito watched Hikaru sleep for a few moments, the calm expression on the older man's face a nice one, before gently pulling Hikaru the his feet. Hikaru didn't really wake up, Keito guiding him to his bed and tucking his leader in. He stood there, observing his handiwork, and as he did his eyes caught on Hikaru's lips, and he found himself recalling their kiss, remembering the way those lips had felt against his own. The heat of their chests pressed together even in the rain, the way Hikaru had cupped his face. He hadn't ever been kissed like that before, and he could feel his heart speeding up just thinking about it. Embarrassed and feeling guilty he averted his gaze. He'd promised Hikaru he'd forget. So he just murmured a quiet good night and left the room, taking one last gimped of Hikaru's body on the bed as he shut the door behind himself.

The next morning he handed over his month's payment proudly, Yabu accepting the cash with mild surprise. When he tried to start paying Yuto back however, it didn't go over as smoothly.

"Nope." Yuto said, putting the envelope with the cash in it on top of Keito's head. "I'm not taking money from you Keito." Yuto declared, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "We're friends, it's not a big deal." Keito frowned. He wanted to repay Yuto. He didn't want to remain in debt, regardless of their friendship. His father had always told him to never borrow money, and now all he was trying to do was fix it. Yuto seemed to sense his discontent. "Here, I have an idea." Yuto told him. "How about instead of giving me money, you just act as my wingman for a few months, and the money I earn with you will go toward what I put towards your share. Deal?" Not seeing any other options, Keito nodded. Yuto broke out into a grin. "Awesome! This is going to be fun! It'll be good, getting you out of the house." Yuto told him, and Keito couldn't help but smile. There were definitely much worse ways to spend his evenings than out and about with Yuto.


	14. Chapter 14

It wasn't until the first week of October that Yuto took Keito up on the wingman agreement. His roommate came home one evening, obviously back from a date, a huge smile on his face. Keito had been sitting on their bedroom floor folding the last of his laundry, and he smiled at the sight of his friend.

"I did it!" Yuto told him, pulling an envelope stuffed with cash from his back pocket. "She didn't suspect a thing. It was amazing. Plus, she thinks my family is moving to Brazil. Can you believe it? It's perfect." He began changing into some sweatpants, shuffling around the piles of clothes Keito had stacked on the floor around him. "Now I need to find a new girl. You doing anything Friday night, Keito? I've been wanting to try this club across the river, by the university. I've never been there, it'll be a good chance for some fresh meat. It could be a lot of fun." Keito nodded. This was finally a chance to start paying Yuto back.

"I'll be at your service." He told his friend. Yuto snorted, flopping down next to Keito on the floor and picking a pair of jeans out of Keito's basket, helping him fold. And so that Friday evening, after they'd eaten dinner Keito and Yuto retreated back upstairs, changing out of their casual clothes and into more suitable attire. Keito just tried to follow Yuto's lead, not really sure what was expected of him in terms of clothing. Most of the bars he'd been to he'd been working, and they had a been different type of establishment than the one he and Yuto were going to tonight. He ended up in his least tattered pair of jeans, and a fitted white button down, his black leather jacket shrugged on for warmth, his necklace with the black guitar pick hung around his neck.

Yuto had compiled his outfit long before Keito'd finished his, and his friend dragged him to the bathroom, stealing some of Takaki's hair goo—Keito didn't really know what it was—and putting it in Keito's hair. At first Yuto just played with it, making Keito have a mohawk, and giving him spikes in weird places, but eventually he got serious, and Keito just let him do as he pleased until the deemed their reflections suitable.

"Hey, didn't Hikaru give that to you?" Yuto asked, as he examined their images in the mirror, pointing to Keito's necklace. Keito nodded.

"Yeah. It was a Christmas present. I'm hoping it might detract attention from the huge scar." Keito gestured to his throat and Yuto nodded, his eyes catching on the pick for a moment before saying

"Let's go!" They tromped down the stairs, their housemates teasing them, catcalling lightheartedly as they passed by. Keito felt himself blushing at the attention, but Yuto just laughed, waving as they stepped out into the chilly October night. They only walked a few blocks before Yuto hailed a taxi, Keito extremely aware of just how unprepared for the evening he was as he watched them cross the river out the car's window. He was in new territory in every sense of the phrase, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. It wasn't until they had crossed the river that Keito realized that he wasn't actually sure what his role tonight was supposed to be. He knew they were trying to find Yuto a new target, a girl to swindle money from, but how he was supposed to be aiding in that he wasn't sure.

"What do I do to help you?" He asked, turning away from the window. Yuto blinked at him in surprise.

"Oh, you just...I don't know. Make me look good? We want the katagi to want to date me, so..." He paused, fiddling with his earring for a few moments, thinking. "I know!" He declared. "I've got a plan." His eyes were bright with mischief, and Keito couldn't help but smile, leaning in to listen as Yuto began to elaborate on his epiphany. The plan was—thankfully—pretty simple. Keito was going to actually draw attention to his scars instead of trying to hide them, and then whenever anyone asked about them, He and Yuto would tell the wide eyed listener an amazing tale of how Yuto saved Keito's life. Keito didn't even feel that bad about the story. Yuto had saved his life on multiple occasions, it wouldn't be hard to make it believable. Hell, it was hardly lying in the first place.

When they stepped out of the cab Keito felt a bit more confident, now that he understood his role in the evening's operations. The club Yuto had chosen was a few blocks away from the university campus, and as such it was swarming with young students, girls with dyed hair and an alarming amount of makeup going through the doors in packs. Keito wondered for a moment how they were going to get inside, but the bouncer at the doors seemed to recognize them, bowing and letting them pass at once. Their reputations must have preceded them, because all of the staff they encountered were overly polite, and Keito caught a few staring when they thought he wasn't looking.

The club was loud, and people were everywhere. Keito wasn't sure if he liked it, but he and Yuto were ushered into a VIP section, which was much quieter, Yuto smiling and whispering

"These people are rich, this is perfect." The next few hours were spent chatting with girls in tight shirts and fake nails, the girls giggling, some of them obviously drunk. Keito did his best to talk up his friend, and Yuto seemed to be doing well with the ladies, eventually sitting with one in a corner, talking quietly, their bodies close on the worn leather couch. That however, meant that Keito had to fend for himself, and he was slightly alarmed when one of the girls draped herself across his chest. He froze, his hands hovering—not actually touching her, just there in case she fell—near her shoulders. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want this girl touching him. He glanced anxiously over at Yuto, and his friend seemed to sense his distress, motioning for Keito to give him one second. He whispered something in the girl he was sitting with's ear, and took her hand, giving it a small squeeze before making his way over to Keito and prying his assaulter off, giving the girl a small smile and directing her to a seat.

"We can go home." Yuto told him, and Keito nodded, following behind his friend as Yuto led the way out of the club and into the night. It had been hot inside, the conglomeration of bodies all radiating heat enough to make Keito shed his jacket, but when they stepped out onto the sidewalk he shrugged it back on, the wind chilling. Yuto was giggling, and when they got outside he burst out into laughter, slinging one hand over Keito's shoulders. "You should have seen the look on your face." He told Keito, and Keito felt a blush growing on his cheeks. "She was a persistent one, I'll give you that. If our positions had been switched she would be out of a lot of cash." Yuto hailed a cab, holding the door open for Keito to get in.

"I'm sorry I ruined it." Keito felt guilty. Yuto had been buttering up his next conquest, and Keito had gotten in the way. It was the exact opposite of what he'd been there to do. Yuto immediately waved away Keito's apology.

"You were great! Are you kidding? Look—" He held out a small piece of paper, with what looked like a restaurant name on it. "—I'm meeting her again on Thursday for coffee."

"Really?" Keito blinked at his friend in surprise. Yuto's grin grew wider.

"Yeah. See? This was fun!" Keito smiled back, his guilt lessening. Yuto seemed to be genuinely excited about having him around, and if this was what it took to repay his debt to his friend, then he'd do it happily. Perhaps, Keito thought, as they crossed the river once more, back into familiar territory, this was what Yuto had hoped they'd be doing, back when he'd first joined the kumi. Back when Yuto had been trying to teach him how to swindle. He felt his grin growing as he said

"Yeah. It was."

In the weeks to come Keito spent evenings out with Yuto on a more regular basis. They didn't return to that club, but they went to all sorts of establishments all over town, and Keito grew more comfortable with his wingman's duties. Inoo meanwhile seemed to like the arrangement between himself and Keito immensely, and he gave Keito a couple more people to collect from, giving Keito a cut of the earnings. To Keito's pleasant surprise, he managed to pay Hikaru back within a month and a half, October folding nearly seamlessly into November, the only hiccup Taiyo's death anniversary, which had brought with it a strong thunderstorm. Before Keito knew it he had settled into his new jobs, his new nightlife something he never thought he would want, but something he found he could enjoy.

It was over a month into his new arrangements with Inoo and Yuto, and Keito was sitting on the couch downstairs, already dressed in what he'd learned were appropriate clothes, playing a casual game of trump with Takaki while he waited for Yuto to get out of the shower. The conversation had organically devolved into a comfortable silence, one Keito hadn't had any intention of breaking, when Takaki fixed him with a curious look, saying

"Hey Keito, do you ever get to fool around with the girls when you and Yuto go out?" Keito blinked in surprise, and he already felt himself blushing, but he answered

"No. That's not really my role; we go to get Yuto girls, not me." Takaki nodded, looking serious, contemplating Keito's response.

"Okay, but...do you ever _want_ to?" He paused, pursing his lips, watching Keito's face and waiting for a response. Keito was completely taken by surprise by Takaki's questions, but his housemate wasn't teasing him, or being insensitive. He seemed to have thought about his questions a lot, and his tone was one of genuine sincerity. So Keito answered him as best he could.

"I hadn't really even considered it." He told the older man. He wasn't lying. Aside from the occasional memory of his kiss with Hikaru in the rain—something he was supposed to have forgotten, something that he wouldn't tell anyone about—he hadn't ever thought about another person in a sexual or romantic way since Shoon's death.

"I mean...it's probably been a long time since you've had sex." Takaki said, Keito shrugging. Takaki fixed him with another look, as if trying to figure out how Keito was taking this new branch of conversation. He must have deemed it safe to continue, because he asked "How long ago was it? I mean—" He cut himself off, taking a quick breath and looking down at his cards. But Keito found himself responding immediately, Takaki's candid questions and genuine tone making him feel more comfortable than he'd thought he would be talking about this subject, and he said

"It was with Shoon. Our one year anniversary."

"Have you ever done it with anyone else?" Takaki's eyebrows were furrowed now, lips pursed. Keito shook his head.

"No. Just Shoon." Takaki nodded, and he set his playing cards down on the table, casting aside the last remains of the farce that was their card game. He looked Keito in the eye, folding his hands, and he told him seriously

"Well, if you ever feel the urge...or if you want to test the waters, or you just need to blow off some steam and release some stress, my door is open. I wouldn't mind, I mean I could...help you out." Keito could feel his face growing more and more red. Takaki was offering to have sex with him? But he nodded, and as he did there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. It was Yuto, dressed and ready to go. Keito stood to greet his friend, Yuto waving at Takaki as they grabbed their coats and slung them on, before going out into the cold November night. Tonight they were going to a coffee shop, Yuto telling Keito with some authority that apparently coffee shops were where girls went when it was cold outside.

Keito tried to pay attention to his friend, but he found that all he could focus on was his conversation with Takaki. Takaki had brought up a lot of points that Keito hadn't thought about. It had been a long time since Shoon had passed away. And he'd not only come to terms with the older man's passing, he'd even managed to be happy again. He thought he'd moved on. He simply hadn't thought about sex. But now he was, and...and it had been a long time since he'd had sex. Nearly a year and a half. He'd loved sex, it had been amazing, wonderful when he'd done it with Shoon. He'd never done it with anyone else, but talking with Takaki had reminded him that even though Shoon had been the first person he'd had sex with, he didn't have to be—wouldn't be—the only one.

And it wasn't just sex. Keito didn't want to close himself off from the concept of being in another relationship. He'd loved Shoon. He'd loved _loving _Shoon, and he didn't want to give up on that feeling. He wanted to be able to love someone again. He hadn't even been looking, but perhaps he should start opening up to the possibility of loving someone else. He had no idea what being with another person would be like. He hadn't thought about it, but now it was all he could think about. What would Takaki's hands feel like on his skin? What would his lips feel like on Keito's own? What would he say? What would he make Keito feel? Was sex with other people different, or was it more or less the same? He remembered what Takaki had said, there at the end. _If you ever feel the urge...or if you want to test the waters, or you just need to blow off some steam and release some stress, my door is open._

He and Yuto had been talking with some girls, Yuto having invited himself into their booth at the cafe, not that the girls seemed to mind. He was doing well, and a particularly loud burst of laughter from one of the girls pulled Keito from his thoughts. His heart was racing, his pulse pounding in his ears as he contemplated just what it was he thought he wanted. He nudged Yuto gently with his shoulder, getting the younger man's attention.

"Hey, would it be okay if I went home? I have something..." He tried to keep the blush off of his cheeks. Yuto seemed to be bewildered by Keito's behavior, but he nodded, Keito thanking him and getting to his feet.

"Is everything okay?" Yuto asked, his voice laced with concern. Keito nodded.

"Yeah, don't worry. You have fun." Keito slung his coat over his shoulders, and stepped out into the night, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He hurried home, and found that everyone had either retired to their rooms, or had gone out. He took a deep breath, pausing in the doorway. He didn't want to lose his nerve. He climbed the stairs, turning right instead of the usual left, and knocking on Takaki's bedroom door. After a few moments it was pulled open, Takaki looking at Keito in surprise. Keito bit at his lip, feeling self conscious now that he was faced with his housemate. But Takaki just waited patiently for Keito to speak.

"When you said that earlier...were you serious?" Keito finally asked. Takaki nodded.

"Yeah, I was." Keito didn't know what to do next, know how to say what he wanted. But Takaki seemed to understand, holding the door open wider, and saying

"Keito, would you like to come in?" Keito knew he was blushing again, but he nodded, and Takaki stepped aside, gesturing for Keito to come into his room. Keito did, his mind reeling with what was about to happen, as Takaki pushed the door shut behind him, closing him in with a soft click.


	15. Chapter 15

Takaki turned back around to face Keito, taking Keito's coat and sliding it off of his shoulders for him, tossing it by the door. Keito could still feel adrenaline and something else churning through his veins, and he was very aware of himself, of the rise and fall of his chest and the way his arms hung by his sides, and he consciously fought the urge to bite at his bottom lip. Takaki stepped in close, their bodies barely a hair apart, and the older man met his eyes.

"Are you sure about this, Keito?" Takaki was calm, his tone steady and assuring, and it made Keito feel more comfortable, more confident in his decision as he said

"Yes." Takaki leaned in and Keito shut his eyes, his mind wandering for a moment back to his kiss with Hikaru in the rain. But then Takaki's lips were on Keito's own, and it was _nothing_ like kissing Hikaru. Keito put his hands on Takaki's shoulders, trying to anchor himself as he reciprocated the kiss. Takaki was very confident, his lips working on Keito's, moving and teasing Keito's open, and it took Keito a few moments to figure out how to reciprocate. Takaki's hands ran down Keito's chest until they were on his hips, and the older man pulled Keito in closer to him, their chests close, brushing with each breath. Keito could smell Takaki's shampoo, and that too was different, the scent one he associated completely with his housemate.

Takaki kissed him for a while, just standing there, and Keito felt himself relaxing into it. Takaki's lips and tongue worked away any remaining anxiety he was feeling, and he let his hands move down Takaki's arms, before settling on the older man's hips, mirroring the way Takaki's rested on his. It was then that Takaki pulled back a little, breaking away from Keito's lips and trailing kisses down to his ear, murmuring

"The bed." He pulled Keito over to his bed, Keito sitting on the edge of it, Takaki standing between his legs and fiddling with the hem of Keito's shirt. Keito helped him pull it over his head, barely getting the garment off before Takaki's lips were on this throat, the older man slowly pinning him to the bed as his lips found the juncture where Keito's neck and his shoulder met. Keito felt a shiver of arousal run down his spine, a feeling he hadn't felt in _months,_ and he gasped. Takaki chuckled. "Just you wait." He murmured, his fingers already working on Keito's belt, undoing the buckle. "Do you like blowjobs Keito?" Takaki asked, his eyes dark, betraying his own arousal. Keito pursed his lips, shrugging. Takaki's eyebrows furrowed, his hands stilling on the clasp of Keito's jeans.

"What does that mean?" The older man asked.

"I—I've never—" Takaki blinked in surprise. But he leaned in, pressing another hot kiss to Keito's lips, cutting him off.

"Well then you're going to love this. Just let me take care of you." Takaki's words were said as the older man got down on his knees, and Keito sat up, not sure what to do as Takaki tugged sharply on his waistband. Keito got the hint, lifting his hips and letting Takaki pull his jeans and underwear down his thighs, the fabric pooling around his ankles. He felt slightly embarrassed, completely naked while Takaki hadn't shed any of his own clothing, but Takaki's hands trailed up his thighs, Keito hyper aware of every brush of skin as the older man leaned in, taking Keito's erection into his mouth.

Keito forgot to breathe for a moment, his eyes scrunching shut, his fingers curling into the sheets on Takaki's bed as Takaki took more and more of him into his mouth. It felt amazing. It was so hot and wet, and when he felt Takaki's tongue moving along his length he couldn’t help but let out a whine. Takaki knew just what to do to make him feel good, and he grew harder and harder as Takaki worked, Keito just sitting there, still, reveling in the sensations. Behind his shut his eyelids however, he was met with the sudden mental image of _Hikaru_ on his knees, the tattooed leader's warm hands on Keito's thighs, his lips hot on Keito's erection. Keito's eyes popped open, and he looked down at Takaki, trying to shake the thought, embarrassed and ashamed.

Eventually Takaki pulled away, and Keito reached out for the older man on instinct, offering Takaki a hand and standing, pulling Takaki to his feet. He began unbuttoning Takaki's shirt, slipping it off of his housemate's shoulders and feeling the older man's hot skin under his hands as he ran them along his lower back. Takaki's body was much softer than Shoon's had ever been. Where with Shoon Keito had felt nothing but hard muscle and knotted, uneven strips of skin—harsh scars from old wounds—Takaki's body had some give, soft and pliable under Keito's fingers. Keito kissed him, Takaki reciprocating enthusiastically, pulling away to shove off his pants, his own erection freed. They ended up on the bed, Takaki over him, and when the older man pulled the condoms from his bedside table Keito thought he knew what to expect, but then Takaki took the little packet and handed it to him.

"You do me." The older man said, snatching a bottle of lube and passing it to Keito as well. Keito froze, looking up at Takaki, at the easy smile on his housemate's lips. "You've never done it this way have you?" Takaki asked. Keito shook his head. Shoon had always been on top, had always taken on that role in bed. Keito hadn't minded, in fact he'd loved it, but when Takaki said "It's gonna be great. I'll ride you." Keito found himself nodding. It wasn't a decision he would regret.

Keito woke in the morning to find himself still in Takaki's bed, the older man sitting up next to him, awake and dressed, his hair damp as if he'd just returned from the shower. Keito sat up, feeling embarrassed for oversleeping, but Takaki didn't seem annoyed, just glancing down at him and saying casually

"'Morning." Keito nodded, eyes searching the room for his clothes. His pants and underwear were still in a ball by the edge of the bed. On the other side of the room, Inoo's bed was still made. He hadn't been by. Keito felt relieved. "How are you?" Takaki asked, drawing Keito's attention. The older man was watching him carefully, trying to gauge Keito's wellbeing. Keito was touched by his housemate's concern. Takaki had done so much for him in the past twelve hours.

"I'm okay. Thank you for everything Takaki, you've been so wonderful." Takaki just blinked at him. "It...it was fun. I mean—" Keito could feel his face growing red. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, supposed to say in this type of situation. Casual sex had always seemed like a very foreign concept for him, one he'd never thought he would subscribe to, and now... But Takaki smiled, chuckling softly.

"It's different when it's not with someone you love." Takaki said. "It's fun, but...when it's with someone you love there's just...more. More emotions, more feeling behind the actions. When you're in love with the person your fucking, it's just _better."_ His voice rang with understanding, and Keito nodded, feeling a little bit better. Takaki had voiced exactly what he'd been feeling. It had been new, the sensations his body had gone through had been amazing, and Takaki had been not only spectacular in bed, he'd also been very considerate of Keito. Yet, Keito had felt that there was something missing, and while he did care for Takaki, while he'd give his life for his friend, he wasn't _in love_ with him.

"Go hop in the shower." Takaki said. "I think Yamada and Daiki are making pancakes."

"Thank you." Keito said, and Takaki just smiled, looking down into his lap.

"You're embarrassing me, Keito." The older man told him, and Keito nodded, falling silent as he slipped out of bed, scooping up his clothes, throwing his underwear on before slipping out the door, dashing over to the—thankfully empty—bathroom and shutting the door behind himself in relief. No one knew about his night with Takaki. No one had seen him run practically naked from their housemate's bedroom. He wanted it to stay that way. For some reason the thought of the others knowing left a sour taste in his mouth. His night with Takaki had been something experimental for him. It had been him testing the waters, and the experience had left him with one rather confusing, intimidating thing to ponder over.

He ran the shower, stepping in and sighing as the hot water hit his body, rinsing away the dried sweat and any other bodily fluids from his skin. As he washed, he let himself think, trying to hold back any irrationalities and analyze himself logically, his one point of concern filling his mind. When he'd been with Takaki, on more than one occasion he'd had fleeting thoughts of Hikaru. He'd always pushed those images of Hikaru out at once, but he'd _had_ them. What did that mean? Why had that happened? He wasn't sure. He'd never thought things like that about any of his other housemates. Never fantasized about anyone the way he'd fantasized about Hikaru last night.

He didn't understand it, and it scared him, and the more he thought about it, the more it scared him. Because the thoughts of Hikaru touching him like that had been good thoughts. They'd felt right, and he was ashamed of them, he didn't want them to feel right. Hikaru had asked him to forget a simple _kiss,_ and Keito had already failed him in that one request. He couldn't keep thinking of Hikaru in this manner. Hikaru had always been special. What Keito wanted more than anything was to do what Hikaru asked of him. He didn't want to disappoint Hikaru. And even more terrifying was one little thought, far in the back of his mind. One that he wouldn't even let himself consider, because nothing, absolutely nothing good could come from it. _What if I'm in love with Hikaru?_

Keito's day was surprisingly normal. He supposed that the rest of the world didn't care if he got laid for the first time in seventeen months, but he _felt_ different, and he'd half expected the whole house to know—or at least figure out what had happened by the end of the day. But aside from Yuto asking if everything was okay—the younger man still concerned after Keito had suddenly left the previous evening—no one asked any questions, or gave any indication that they had noticed anything. Even Hikaru, whose eyes Keito had a hard time meeting, didn't say anything. Although he did give Keito a look of confusion when he slung an arm across Keito's shoulders that morning during their card game and Keito blushed magnificently, his heart pounding in his chest, as he remembered for a split second his fantasies involving their tattooed leader.

To Keito's amazement, Takaki's interactions with him in the weeks to come didn't change at all. The older man didn't give any hint that their relationship had changed in any way, and perhaps—Keito thought, watching the older man laugh and joke with Yabu one evening after dinner—it hadn't. Takaki didn't offer to sleep with Keito again, but even if he had, Keito wouldn't have gone through with it. He didn't regret his night with Takaki, but he knew that the next time he had sex, he wanted it to be with someone he loved. As Takaki had said, it was just better when there were feelings involved. And so Keito's life more or less got back to normal, the only real change after his night with Takaki the new lurking feeling of dread tugging at his conscious, the fear of the concept that he only allowed himself to consider late at night, in the small privacy darkness brought with it as he lay in his bunk. The fear of his possibly more than platonic feelings of affection for their Kumi-cho.


	16. Chapter 16

It was a little over a week into December when Keito came home late one night, his pockets full of envelopes of money, courtesy of Inoo's borrowers. He was surprised to find Daiki still up, the older man sitting at their kitchen table in a pair of sweatpants and a flannel long sleeved shirt, the surface of the table littered in papers, a thick book open next to a manila folder. He'd had his head bowed over the book, one finger tracing some text, a pen in his other hand, hovering over a scrap of paper. Keito just stood there in the entryway for a moment, completely taken aback by the image in front of him. He'd never seen Daiki look remotely studious in all of his time knowing the older man. The sound of the door being shut seemed to jerk Daiki out of his state of immense concentration, and he jumped, looking up sharply at Keito and cursing, his eyes wide.

"Sorry." Keito murmured, taking off his coat and hanging it up, Daiki taking a deep breath and shaking his head.

"Oh, It's just you Keito." He flipped a page in his book. "I was afraid it was Ryosuke." Keito's surprise just grew at that statement, and he crossed the space between them, taking a seat at the table.

"What's all of this, Daiki?" He gestured to the mess of papers surrounding his housemate. Daiki glanced over at him, eyes narrowed as he sized Keito up. They sat in a moment of silence, Keito feeling the smaller man judging him, before Daiki's expression relaxed, an excited light in his eyes that Keito hadn’t been expecting.

"I, well..." He started shuffling through his pages, obviously trying to gather his thoughts. "Do you remember, back in July when we went to Johnny's memorial service, Ryosuke and I were conversing with those two men, Tackey-san and Tsubasa-san?" It took Keito a moment to recall who Daiki was talking about, having to sift through all of the only vaguely familiar faces from that day, before nodding.

"They'd just gotten married." Keito recalled. Daiki nodded, an excited energy in his voice.

"Exactly right, yes. Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to talk much with them about it, but since then I've been doing my own research, and..." His expression suddenly grew serious, and he leaned across the table, standing to accommodate his small stature, and he slammed his palms down loudly on the table top, getting right in Keito's face. Keito leaned away a little on instinct, Daiki's intimidation act doing it's job completely, Ketio not able to meet his housemate's fierce gaze. "If you tell anyone about this, you're going to wake up one morning without any kneecaps. Do you understand? The only reason I'm telling you anything is because you caught me, and I don't want you asking Ryosuke any funny questions. He doesn't know shit, and I plan on keeping it that way until I'm prepared."

"I understand." Keito muttered, his mind racing as he comprehended everything Daiki had been saying, putting the pieces together. There was a silence as Daiki took his seat, and Keito took in the older man in shock, asking "Daiki...are you going to propose to Yama-chan?"

Daiki just stared back over at him for a moment, his cheeks tinting pink. Keito had never seen Daiki act bashful before. It was cute.

"Well, it wouldn't be a marriage in the eyes of the law, but I've figured out that if I were to legally adopt Ryosuke, then he'd get my family name, and we would get benefits, and inheritance and everything. We'd be family, legally." That excited light was back. "It wouldn't even be that hard, we'd just need witnesses, and a government official to record it, and then I was thinking we could just exchange rings or something." He looked down at his book. "I've nearly got it all figured out, I was just trying to find a record of exactly what documentation we would need, and then I want to find someone who could be the official that presided over the whole thing. I was thinking I'd go by Shoon's old office and see..." He trailed off, muttering quietly "I'm thinking I'll be confident enough in this whole idea in time to ask Ryosuke on Christmas."

Keito hadn't had any idea that Daiki had been having any thoughts of marriage, but he felt a smile growing on his face. This was amazing. It was fantastic. He told Daiki so, his praises making Daiki's blush grow even more red, and the older man slumped in his chair, telling Keito to _'shut the fuck up'._ Daiki, Keito realized, was probably a good authority on the subject of love. He'd managed to have such a long lasting, healthy relationship, his relationship with Yamada one to be envious of. And so, trying to act nonchalant about the question; trying to tell himself that it was just pure curiosity, and _not_ because he could possibly, maybe be in love with Hikaru, Keito asked

"Dai-chan, how did you know that you were in love with Yamada?" It was Daiki's turn to give Keito a look of surprise, but he furrowed his brow, thinking.

"I didn't at first. Yamada was just different from all of the other boys for some reason. I was more aware of him and what he was doing than I was about the rest of them. And then one evening—I remember it was right after he got his first tattoo, because I had been helping him take care of it—I had the urge to kiss him." Daiki chuckled, shaking his head. "I was really stupid. Even then I didn't get the hint. Inoo-chan had to tell me that what I was feeling was love. After that though, it was blatantly obvious to me how I felt about Ryosuke. I just needed to acknowledge it." There was a pause, and Daiki suddenly grew serious, his eyebrows furrowed, and he asked

“What brought this on Keito? You know how it is. You had Shoon after all.”

“I know, I just...I just wanted to know if it was different for you than it was for me.” Keito stuttered out.

Daiki's words made Keito feel rather ill. The process Daiki had just described sounded eerily like his situation with Hikaru. But just because he occasionally thought about kissing the Kumi-cho, just because Hikaru had always been different from all of the other boys, had always been special, that didn't mean that Keito had to be in love with him. Keito was going to keep telling himself that, because he couldn't—_wouldn't_—be in love with Hikaru. Hikaru was the Kumi-cho. He was the boss. He was the one person Keito could never have romantic feelings for. The one person who could never love him back. Keito bid Daiki good night, taking Inoo his money and going to bed, that terrifying little thought at the back of his mind no longer quite so little.

Keito's fear of being in love with Hikaru didn't stop him from putting the Kumi-cho on his list of people to buy Christmas presents for. Not that anyone wasn't on the list. All of his housemates had been absolutely amazing, patient and understanding with him in the past year, and he wanted to show his gratitude. They had gotten a Christmas tree the first week of December, and in the weeks leading up to the holiday Keito and Yuto went out together for Christmas presents, Keito's friend amusing him during their searches for presents for Yamada. Yuto voiced the concern that he didn't want to risk getting Yamada something nicer than whatever Daiki was getting him, and Keito had to fight to keep up the oblivious act as he told Yuto that he didn't think that was going to be a problem.

While Hikaru was on Keito's list, Keito found himself having a hard time figuring out just what to get the older man for Christmas. Hikaru had gotten him some amazing gifts in the past, and Keito wanted to give Hikaru something amazing, but nothing he saw seemed good enough for his leader. He looked at jewelry for a while, rather set on getting him something shiny and expensive, but Hikaru didn't have his ears pierced, and he wasn't one to wear accessories. Yuto had the perfect suggestion, telling Keito once he'd heard Keito's dilemma

"Just get him cuff links. They're expensive and pretty, or whatever, like jewelry, but they have a purpose, so he'll actually use them." And so Keito did, managing to find some gorgeous gold ones in the shape of tigers heads, the beasts roaring, their eyes embedded with tiny rubies. The tigers' stripes reminded Keito a bit of Hikaru's tattoos, and he smiled down at them in their little box as he forked over the money for them. He'd found a gift he would be proud to give to Hikaru. Keito wrapped his gifts or put them in gift bags, labeling them and slipping them under the tree, relieved that he managed to get everything done with a few days to spare before Christmas.

The holiday itself arrived—as per usual—with Keito being shaken awake by an extremely excited Yuto, his roommate talking at him until he got out of bed, Keito not able to hold back a grin as the taller man handed him a Santa hat, already shoving one on his own head. And—as per usual—due to Yuto's enthusiasm soon all of their housemates were awake, Chinen refusing to come down, Ryutaro having to forcibly drag the tiny man from their bed. Chinen was grumbly at first, but someone stuffed a cup of coffee into one of his tiny hands, and a muffin in the other, and that settled him down. Daiki and Yamada were the last to arrive, their hands clasped together, Yamada pressed into Daiki's side. They were both smiling widely, Daiki looking at Yamada as if the younger man was made of starlight and pure happiness. Keito immediately realized what must have happened, and he had to fight back an excited congratulations. Luckily he didn't have to hold in his excitement for long, Daiki and Yamada waiting until everyone was sitting, looking at each other, their smiles growing as they made eye contact, before announcing

"So...we're engaged!" There was a stunned silence, but Keito just let out a whoop, congratulating his housemates. His sounds of excitement were quickly joined by the praises and congratulations of the rest of his housemates, Inoo actually crying, Daiki letting go of his now-fiancé to pull his best friend into his arms, holding the crying man, an amused expression on his face. Eventually however, Inoo calmed down, apologizing for his embarrassing display, and after they'd gotten through teasing their friend the gift exchanging began, Yuto sitting by the tree and throwing packages across the room to their intended recipients. Keito took a seat by Yuto's side, offering his friend a bite of his muffin and passing out his own gifts, feeling self conscious as his housemates opened them. Yuto meanwhile handed him a package with his name on it, Keito turning his attention to the gift, glad for something to focus on.

Yuto had gotten him a new set of guitar strings and a pack of picks, black like his necklace. Keito thanked his friend for the present, realizing that this was Yuto's way of trying to get him to pick his guitar back up. He figured he would have to now. Not that he would mind; if it was something Yuto wanted, he would be happy to. His attention was pulled away from his new strings however, when there was a sharp curse, and he looked up to see Hikaru sitting on the floor, Keito's present open in his lap. He was staring at the contents of the box, surprise etched on his face. Keito could feel himself blushing, his heart speeding up, and Yuto have him a thumbs up, leaning in and saying quietly

"I think you did good, Keito." His statement was quickly proven by the smile that broke out on Hikaru's lips, the older man's eyes catching Keito's own. Hikaru leaned in, to be heard over their chattering housemates

"Keito, these are gorgeous." Keito could feel his blush growing, and he felt self conscious hearing Hikaru's praise. "Thank you so much." He nodded, an immense feeling of relief and happiness that his gift had been so well received rising up in his chest, and he couldn't keep the smile off of his face when for the rest of the day Hikaru showed off the cufflinks to their housemates. Being the source of Hikaru's happiness just made _him_ so immensely happy, the feeling welling up inside of him, affection so strong that he felt he might burst with it.

He hadn't been so affected by another person's happiness since...since he'd been in love with Shoon. And it suddenly hit him, washing over him with a feeling of stark finality later on in the day as Hikaru called for him to come sit by him, the older man smiling, his warm brown eyes on Keito's face, that he simply couldn't deny it any longer. He was in love with Yaotome Hikaru, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Another thought quickly chased that one, a more grim thought, as he smiled back, his heart pounding in his chest as he settled in next to the Kumi-cho, Hikaru slinging his arm across Keito's shoulders and pulling him close. _I can't let him ever find out._


	17. Chapter 17

In the months to come Keito adjusted to his newly accepted feelings for the Kumi-cho. Now that they had been acknowledged, he tried to figure out just when they had begun, the thought that perhaps if he knew why he felt the way he did then he could suppress those feelings more effectively. The attempt was eventually abandoned when try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint a specific _quality_ or _moment_ that had been the reason for his love. He didn't know when it had happened, or why it had happened. He and Hikaru had always had a special bond. Perhaps there had always been some love between them. Regardless, he managed—for the most part—to keep his feelings in check. No one seemed to suspect a thing, and if he slipped up occasionally, and found himself staring for too long, or leaning into Hikaru's side, at least the leader seemed to be oblivious.

Winter turned to spring, and with it the warmer weather brought new problems for Keito to deal with, his resolve being tested on a nearly daily basis when Hikaru would ask him to spar, the older man discarding his shirt, his muscular torso bare in the warm sun, sweat running down his skin as they circled each other. Keito tried not to relish the feeling of Hikaru's body pressed up against his own, tried to focus on the fact that Hikaru was trying to defeat him, on the fact that if he wanted to impress Hikaru, he should take the sparring sessions seriously, yet he often found himself pinned to the pavement, Hikaru on all fours over top of him, the older man smirking triumphantly at yet another victory. Keito felt that he should be ashamed, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad when Hikaru looked so happy, teasing Keito lightheartedly as he helped him to his feet.

No one knew, and Keito was pretty content shaking off the fleeting thoughts of holding Hikaru in his arms, or pressing kisses to Hikaru's lips, to Hikaru's throat, to Hikaru's everything, really. Only late at night, alone in his bed, did Keito ever allow himself to long for the older man, even if it was just a little. He'd remember the rare occasions that they had shared a bed, Keito waking up to find that Hikaru had wrapped himself around Keito in his sleep, the older man's body pressed up against his side. He'd remember their kiss in the rain, the thought of it alone sending shivers down his spine, and he'd curse his own imagination, frowning and curling in on his body. He didn't like to pity himself. He was healthy, he was happy, he could be content with simply supporting Hikaru from the sidelines. He had to be.

And it was in this manner that Keito managed to go four months without an incident. Yet when the end of April hit, it all went to hell. Four months of keeping his emotions, his actions in check, four months of completely avoiding all suspicion, all washed away, ruined when one night Keito woke to Yuto's voice, loud and frantic shouting

"Keito! Wake up, we're being attacked!" There was the sound of yelling, Keito bolting up in bed as he heard a loud crash, a curse falling from his lips. He threw himself down his ladder, and he barely paused to snatch his knife from his bedside table, wearing nothing but his boxers as he tore out of the room after Yuto. He whipped around the corner, nearly tumbling down the stairs, taking in the battle, assessing it as he came down. Chinen was in the far corner, the younger man fighting two men much larger than himself. Takaki had been fighting Shidai Mirai, Yuto having jumped in to help. Daiki and Yamada were back to back, Daiki already with blood smeared down his knuckles and across his face, the older man yelling

"RYOSUKE!" Yamada glanced back, Daiki's frantic tone a warning, and he ducked out of the way of Sato Takeru's blade, whirling to face his opponent. Hikaru was in the middle of the room, facing down a man with a large knife, he already had a cut running down his right shoulder, blood oozing down his back. Keito barreled down the stairs, a brief glance informing him that the rest of his housemates were fighting in the kitchen, Yabu letting out a yell, the older man's nose busted, bloody trails running from both nostrils. Keito found himself joining Takaki and Yuto, and between the three of them Shidai Mirai was unconscious in a matter of seconds. Takaki turned back into the kitchen, and Keito turned the other way, just in time to see Hikaru whip his knife up an attacker's leg, the enemy letting out a yelp of pain, crumpling to the floor. Hikaru turned away, already swept up in another fight, and Keito watched as the man he'd slashed pulled a knife from his pocket, crawling toward Hikaru's unsuspecting form.

Keito made to go and help his leader, but he felt a fist connect with his back, and he stumbled forward, tripping and turning around to see a man glaring down at him, before the fist connected with his side again, knocking the breath out of him. He fought to remain standing, turning his focus to his attacker, and the next time a fist was swung he reached out, grabbing the man's arm with one hand and slicing across it with the other, his blade digging a deep trail into the flesh of his forearm. Keito let the blade change hands, jabbing out at his opponent as the man cursed, jumping backwards. He kicked up, his foot catching the man in the chin, and blood sprayed from the man's mouth, some of it decorating Keito's skin in red.

It only took a few more hits for his attacker to go down, and Keito turned, searching frantically for Hikaru, but he couldn't spot him in the mob of bodies. Instead he saw Ryutaro, his friend taking a fist to the gut, doubling over, and Keito lunged, grabbing the man by the elbow and just pulling, yanking him away from his housemate. Ryu cursed, Keito kicking out at the back of the man's knees, sending him crashing to the floor, and Ryutaro raised a foot, slamming it down on the man's chest, Keito joining in, kicking him a few times before he felt a sharp tug on his ankle, the sudden action making him crash to the floor. He landed hard, his knife's blade cutting into his hand as he tried to catch his fall.

He cursed, rolling onto his back as someone scrambled over him, a heavy weight on his hips. He looked up, trying to adjust his grip on his knife, the handle slick with his own blood, as his new opponent's hand curled into his hair, raising up his head and slamming it into the floor, pain jarring him, his vision going blurry as he slashed out in desperation to gain control, his blade cutting across the underside of his attacker's arm, the grip on his head going slack. Vision swimming, Keito slashed out again, and suddenly the weight was lifted off of his body, Yabu standing over him, one hand outstretched for Keito to take.

Keito reached up, and Yabu grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet, Keito's head still pounding, and Keito stumbled forward into his housemate. Yabu steadied him, and as Keito's eyes began to focus he realized that the man that had pinned him down was now crumpled to the floor at Inoo's feet, a long cut running down the bridge of his nose, blood seeping from some other unseen wound. He coughed out a quick thanks, Yabu and Inoo nodding, before Inoo took his knife, flipping it up in the air and tossing it at the back of an unsuspecting enemy, all three of them throwing themselves back into battle.

Keito eventually did find his way to Hikaru, the older man looking pretty good, all things considered. He had another, small cut on his chest, and some blood matted into his hair, but it looked as if the man on the floor hadn't actually managed to reach him with his knife. But while Keito was looking the older man over, he felt an arm wrap around his throat, and he was pulled to someone's chest, the arm tightening, restricting his breathing. He choked, wrapping his hands around the arm, pulling, trying to loosen the grip on this throat. It was then that Hikaru caught sight of Keito, the older man lunging, slugging Keito's attacker in the face, Keito feeling the grip go slack. Keito turned, and together they took down their opponent, not giving him chance to retaliate.

Once he was down, Keito turned to thank Hikaru, the words already on his lips, when behind them he caught sight of a man raising his hand, leveling a gun, the barrel trained on Hikaru's back. Keito felt as though a bucket of ice had just been dropped into his stomach, fear and desperation running through him. There was no way he could reach the man with the gun in time. There was no way—he threw himself onto Hikaru, barreling into him and slamming him into the floor sharply. As they hit the ground there was the harsh sound of the gun going off, the earsplitting crack drowning out all other sound. Keito gripped Hikaru's body tighter in reaction, and he could feel the older man's heart pounding in his chest, the pulsing a warm reassurance that he was still alive. That he was okay.

Relief washed over Keito in a wave stronger than any he'd ever felt before, and he placed a kiss to the closest bit of Hikaru's skin, somewhere on his neck, the words falling from his lips in a rush

"Oh god. Oh thank god. Shit. I love you." It hadn't even been said quietly, his voice rough with emotion, his arms still wrapped tightly around Hikaru, his body still heavy on top of his leaders. He didn't even realize just how badly he'd just fucked up for a few moments, Hikaru stilling under him, and he pulled himself up so that he was on his hands and knees over his tattooed housemate, glancing up to see that Takaki and Chinen were taking care of the guy with the gun. It was only once the threat had been neutralized, and he'd glanced back down at Hikaru, the older man looking up at him, eyes wide and shocked, that Keito realized what he'd done.

He could feel shame and mortification already beginning to overtake him, but he rolled off of Hikaru, helping him to his feet, not looking at his leader's face, his own heart still pounding in his ears, but for different reasons than before. Once Hikaru was standing, and a quick sweep of Keito's eyes confirmed that he had in fact not been shot, Keito turned away, catching sight of a small hole in the wall where the bullet had bit the concrete, and he felt another wash of relief. No one had gotten hurt. After that it didn't take long for the Wakaba to disperse, leaving Keito and his housemates in a stark, numb silence. Everyone just stood around, catching their breath, taking each other in, before Hikaru said

"Injury status."

"Dai-chan needs stitches!" Yamada declared, Daiki shrugging, not denying the statement, his bare chest covered in a practically solid layer of drying blood. Yuto too had a pretty deep cut on his abdomen, Keito's roommate hobbling, raising his hand to draw attention to himself and saying

"I'm like a four." Takaki shoved a gun into the waistband of his jeans, striding over and beginning to help Yuto, the older man sporting a fat lip and what looked like it was going to be two black eyes. The action put them all in motion, Yabu catching notice of the laceration on Hikaru's back, scolding him for not saying anything when the others had spoken up about their injuries, and soon they had Daiki lain out on the kitchen table, lying along the end, taking up at little space as possible, while Yuto and Hikaru were draped full out along it's length. All three of them were packed tightly on its wooden surface, limbs hanging off the sides and dangling limply.

Yamada and Inoo got to work on Daiki, while Keito and Takaki dedicated themselves to fixing Yuto, Keito feeling Hikaru's eyes on him as he cleaned Yuto's flesh, refusing to look over at the older man. Yabu and Ryutaro had dedicated themselves to fixing Hikaru's injuries, Chinen meanwhile taking washcloths and going around, making all of them clean themselves up, checking for any other wounds that needed tending to. When he saw Keito's hand he tutted, frowning.

"You're going to need some stitches." He told Keito, Takaki glancing over at him in surprise, glancing down at the long cut on the inside of Keito's right palm, his eyebrows raising when he caught sight of it. He nodded in agreement with Chinen. Chinen pursed his lips. "I'll do it. Just let me check over those idiots first." He gestured to Yabu and Ryu, who were bent over Hikaru's bare back. Keito nodded, turning back to Yuto. His housemate was frowning, eyebrows scrunched up in concern, and as Takaki got to work on stitching up his abdomen he gestured for Keito to come closer, up by his head, and he asked

"Keito what happened? You look awful." Keito showed him his hand. Yuto shook his head, dismissing the injury. "Not that. Something else. Your face...you're making the face you make when you're upset about something. You look like you just fucked something up." Keito could feel a blush growing on his cheeks at Yuto's words. He glanced over at Hikaru, the older man in the process of having the gash on his back stitched, Yabu pushing the needle through his skin.

"I—I kinda—"

"Keito, if you're not helping Yuya, come sit over here." Chinen demanded, cutting Keito off and gesturing to where he'd pulled out a chair over by the kitchen counter. Keito abandoned his conversation with Yuto, doing as Chinen asked, and when he sat down he found himself perfectly seated in Hikaru's line of vision from where the older man was lain out on top of the table. He looked pointedly into his lap, Chinen grabbing him by the wrist and hopping up on the counter, putting Keito's hand in his lap. "Don't fucking move." Were Chinen's only words of warning before he stuck Keito with the needle, Keito scrunching up his face at the sudden pain, biting his lip between his teeth and curling his free hand into a fist, trying to keep from yanking away or cursing.

Chinen exhaled sharply, holding onto Keito's wrist a bit tighter pointedly, drawing the thread through and tying a knot. Keito took a deep breath, trying to relax, but as soon as the needle pierced his skin he scrunched up his face again at the pain. When he opened his eyes he found himself looking into Hikaru's and he froze, almost afraid as he looked away. Chinen was swift in his actions to Keito's relief, finishing the last stitch just as Yamada and Inoo stood to help Daiki up the stairs to his bed. Chinen wrapped his hand in gauze, taping it and announcing Keito free to go. Keito scuttled away from the former leader, back to Yuto and Takaki, helping Yuto raise up to a sitting position and wrapping his friend's abdomen in gauze.

Unfortunately, Hikaru's stitches were also done, and as Keito made to help Yuto off of the table, the Kumi-cho got to his feet, getting Keito's attention with a hand on his shoulder. Knowing he couldn't get out of it, and feeling a little sick, Keito turned to Hikaru. The older man's expression was unreadable, and he said quietly

"Keito, we need to talk. In my office." He gestured to Yuto, turning to Yabu. "Could you?" He asked, the older man nodding at once. He turned his attention back to Keito, gesturing pointedly to his office door, and Keito nodded, dread coursing through his veins thick and fast as he walked with Hikaru, opening the door for the leader and letting him in first, before going in himself, and shutting the door behind him.


	18. Chapter 18

Hikaru walked over to his desk, lowering himself gingerly into his chair, and he gestured for Keito to sit, Keito suddenly very aware of the fact that he was wearing nothing but his boxers as he crossed the room after his leader. His torso was throbbing, and he knew bruises were forming, swelling up under his skin. He tried to focus on that feeling instead of the dread and sadness he could already feel deep inside of his chest. He curled his hands into fists in his lap, looking down at them, instead of Hikaru's face.

"Keito." Hikaru's voice was soft. "You really surprised me back there." Keito wasn't sure what to say, so he didn't say anything. Hikaru paused, Keito glancing up at him when the silence stretched on longer than he'd expected it to. To his surprise Hikaru looked nervous, and everything about the situation reminded Keito of the last time had and the Kumi-cho had had one of these 'we need to talk' types of discussions. Of the time Hikaru had kissed him. He wondered if this one was going to end the same way. If he could even ask Hikaru to forget what he'd said. As he pondered this, Hikaru met his eyes, Keito quickly looking back down into his lap, as Hikaru said

"You...you said you love me." Keito swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding. "Why?" Hikaru asked. Keito blinked in surprise. _Why?_ He hadn't thought that would be of question. His mind raced. He could make something up, tell Hikaru he didn't know why. Tell him it was just something crazy, to forget about it. He could bury this. But as he contemplated his options, he found that lying left a sour taste in his mouth. He was already fucked, besides, at this point Hikaru had a right to know...right?

"Because..." He finally met Hikaru's eyes, not breaking his gaze as he said tentatively, his voice shaking a bit. "...I do. I'm in love with you." Hikaru just froze for a second, his eyes growing wide, and then to Keito's amazement a smile bloomed on Hikaru's lips, starting small, but it grew bigger and bigger, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes, engulfing everything in it's wake. He had this gleam, this light in his eyes, an unmistakably happy light, one unlike any Keito had seen on Hikaru's face before. It was beautiful, and in that moment Hikaru was beautiful, and the look he was giving Keito made Keito feel warm, made Keito feel good, but that feeling was nothing compared to the one that washed over him when Hikaru said

"Keito...you have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that." He paused, glancing down, his cheeks tinting pink. "I’ve been waiting for fucking ever." _What?!_ Keito was shocked. It took him a moment to comprehend those words. Hikaru—Hikaru loved him? He could feel his happiness welling in his chest, and he knew he was smiling too, he could feel it, and he couldn't stop it, even if he wanted to. Hikaru _loved him._ That thought reverberated, filling him up, and he leaned in, taking Hikaru's hand in his own across the desk, Hikaru lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Keito squeezed back, feeling unable to express just how strong his joy was.

They just sat there for a few moments, looking at each other, taking each other in, taking in this new reality in front of them. Keito had not expected to feel good about this meeting, and yet as they sat there, beaming at each other he felt like nothing could bring him down. Hikaru loved _him._ He was the luckiest person in the world. All of the positive implications washed over him, but they were suddenly drowned, the happiness purged from his system in a wave, and—oh shit. Oh fuck. No. He'd completely forgotten. He’d gotten swept up in the moment, and made a fool of them. How could he have forgotten? How could he be so fucking stupid?! The smile fell off of his face, and the nauseating dread washed through him, tugging on every joint and making him freeze up. Hikaru was obviously concerned, his eyebrows furrowing, confusion scrunching up his features. Keito had to fight back his tears, and he slowly pulled his hand out of Hikaru's grasp, replacing it back into his lap.

"Keito?! Keito, what's wrong?" Hikaru stood, going around the desk and crouching down by the chair Keito was sitting in, trying to get a good look at Keito's face. Keito felt stupid. He tried to pull himself together, taking a big breath, his eyes watery.

"Hikaru...Hikaru, you're the Kumi-cho. We can't—you're not supposed to—" Hikaru fell silent, and after a moment a curse left his lips. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Keito opening his mouth to apologize when Hikaru hopped up on his desk, sitting in front of Keito, his feet dangling between Keito's knees.

"What if we just lied? We could do what Ryu and Chinen did." His desperation was clear in his tone, but Keito shook his head. There was no way that was a good idea. Or even a feasible one.

"I'm sorry, but that's not going to work. I'm a horrible liar; Yuto would figure us out within a week. And besides, what would we do once we got caught?" He felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought. When Chinen and Ryu had been caught, Ryutaro had cut off his finger as penitence. He didn't want to put Hikaru through something like that. Even if it was Keito and not Hikaru that lost a finger, he couldn't put Hikaru in a position where he could feel responsible for something like that. He couldn't.

"What if I stepped down?" Hikaru asked. Keito looked up at him in surprise.

"But—You're a great Kumi-cho, Hikaru. I don't want anyone else leading us." He paused. "Besides, you don't want that." Hikaru snorted, looking frustrated, but not denying Keito’s words. There was another long silence, both of them coming to the same conclusion, but neither wanting to voice it. Keito took Hikaru's hand gently, saying softly "I don't think this is going to work." Hikaru's grip tightened on his fingers, and the older man took a few deep breaths, looking distraught. Just seeing Hikaru looking so upset put a pang of sadness through Keito's chest, and he had to hold back tears as he got to his feet. "I guess...I guess I should go." Keito murmured.

They were extremely close, Hikaru's legs pressed up against his own from where they dangled off the edge of his desk. Keito gave Hikaru's hand one last squeeze, pulling away, making for the door, trying to just keep from crying until he'd made it out of the room. He was halfway there when he felt a tug on his hand, spinning him around, and Hikaru pulled him in, his lips hot on Keito's own. Unable, unwilling to hold himself back, Keito leaned into the kiss, relishing the feeling of Hikaru's lips on his own, wrapping his arms around Hikaru, he older man's hands cupping his face as he kissed him. He could taste how desperate Hikaru was on his tongue, and their bruised and battered bodies pressed together, their hearts pounding, racing as they took each other in one last time. One final time. Eventually, Hikaru pulled away, his chest heaving as he fought for breath, and he said quietly

"I'm sorry." Keito felt slightly hollow as he said

"I'm sorry too." This time, Hikaru didn't try to stop him when he made to leave.

Keito ran, pounding up the stairs, his tears already starting to fall. It was early in the morning by this point, Yuto probably asleep, but he knew he was going to cry, and he didn't want to accidentally wake his housemate. Instead of going to his bed, he found himself curling up in the closet he'd started to think of as _his_ closet, surprised by the amount of tears running down his cheeks. He had known things would be this way. He'd known they could never be together. But he hadn't known that Hikaru had loved him back. He hadn't understood just how happy they could have been together before, and now, now it was just so much worse than he'd expected it to be. It was worse because he knew that downstairs, Hikaru was feeling just like he was, and he couldn't do anything to fix it.

He eventually got hold of himself, leaving the closet and going into the bathroom, wiping the tears and snot from his face. It was late, he was trembling, his body drained physically, emotionally, his eyes red and puffy, his torso black and blue. He still had blood under his fingernails, his knuckles scabbed, swollen and purple from the fighting. As quietly as he could, he finally made his way to his bedroom, only tripping once as he got into bed, managing to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. With any luck, he would sleep all through the next day.

Keito woke just after lunchtime the following afternoon, much to his disappointment. Despite just how long he'd been asleep, he didn't get up. His whole body ached, his muscles sore, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the rest of them. No one would blame him if he didn't get out of bed. Everyone was feeling the way he was physically; none of them probably wanted to do anything. Daiki probably couldn't leave his bed, Yamada most likely having prescribed him bed rest. There was a chance he could get away with it. His stomach growled, questioning his resolve, but the thought of having to face Hikaru and act as if nothing had happened, as if nothing was wrong, was enough to keep him in his bed.

A direct order to get up was enough to get him _out_ of bed however, Yuto peeking in the room and telling Keito that the Kumi-cho had called a family meeting, and that he was gathering everyone downstairs in the kitchen. Anxiety immediately flared up in Keito's stomach but he nodded, pulling himself out of bed and throwing on clean clothes. He went to the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth, trying to put off going downstairs for as long as he possibly could, that same dread he'd felt after the raid the night before settling like a rock in his stomach.

As result of his procrastination, Keito was one of the last ones to enter the kitchen, most of his housemates already seated around the kitchen table, everyone waiting for the meeting to start, bewildered looks on their faces. The only ones who seemed to have any idea about what was going on were Hikaru, of course, and Yabu, the older man sharing glances with Hikaru from his seat across the table. Both of them gave Keito looks when he entered to room, but he pretended not to notice, his heart pounding as he took his seat next to Takaki. Soon Yamada and Daiki—the last ones they'd been waiting on—made their way down the stairs, and Hikaru stood, the meeting starting.

"I appreciate everyone coming down for this, I know you all just want to curl back up in your beds, so I'm going to try and make this brief." Hikaru said, everyone just listening quietly, no one sure what to expect. When he did speak again however, no one expected the words that fell from his lips. "I called you all together because I want to ask you all for permission. As most of you know, I'm in love with Keito." He gestured to Keito, their eyes meeting for a moment, Keito numb with shock as Hikaru continued to speak. "And, well, he loves me too." Hikaru's last words were a bit more tentative than the rest, his expression asking. Keito found himself nodding resignedly.

"I know that it didn't work out quite so well for Chinen and Ryutaro, but I couldn't give up without trying. Honestly, I want to be with him. But, if any of you are not comfortable with this concept, then we won't be together." Hikaru offered, his eyes sweeping over their faces. There was a stark silence, everyone shocked by the announcement, and Keito tried to gauge how their companions were handling this information, his whole body taught, heart in his throat. But then Ryu leaned back in his chair, snorting, and he said

"Thank god, it's taken you two for fucking ever. I was beginning to wonder if Keito was ever going to get the hint." There were a few amused smiles, and to Keito's amazement his housemates were all nodding, Inoo saying teasingly

"Yuto and I were going to just lock you two in a closet if you didn't get it soon, weren't we, Yuto?" Yuto nodded. No one seemed surprised, or even bothered, by the information really, and after chatting amongst themselves, Chinen called across the table to Hikaru, his tone suggesting that he found this whole thing a waste of his time.

"Kumi-cho, please, just kiss him already." Hikaru too seemed to be in a state of disbelief.

"Are you all sure you're okay with this?" He asked. Daiki snorted.

"Well as you said, we already knew."

"And you're being straight with us, which was the main thing we had a problem with when we found out about Chinen and Ryutaro." Yamada added.

"Kiss him!" Takaki exclaimed, whoops and hollers of encouragement following his words, and Keito felt his disbelief and surprise giving way to total happiness as Hikaru locked eyes with him, a slight blush tinting their tattooed leader's cheeks.

"Keito...what do you think?" Hikaru asked, and Keito took a deep shuddering breath, taking in the hope and tentative adoration etched into Hikaru’s face. He nodded, clearing his throat and leaning in, the word _yes_ on his lips. He never did voice it, Hikaru leaning down, pulling Keito up to meet him with one hand, pressing their lips together. The angle was a little awkward, and so as soon as the kiss broke Keito pulled himself to his feet, skirting around the edge of the table to kiss Hikaru properly, their lips sliding together in a way that ran good shivers down his spine, a feeling that calmed and comforted and lifted his spirits.

And behind him he could hear his housemates all cheering and clapping, and when he broke the kiss he pulled Hikaru in for a hug, burying his nose in the crook of Hikaru's neck, a smile blooming on his lips. He could feel Hikaru laughing, the older man's body shaking with it, and as he took Hikaru's hand, and looked into the man he loved's eyes, their friends all smiling up at them, he had never felt less alone.


End file.
